


Espresso and Cream

by CrystalFlowers



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, College, Erotica, Eventual Smut, Hand Jobs, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Original Character(s), Porn with Feelings, Power Dynamics, Praise Kink, Sex Toys, Spanking, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:14:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 79,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26276989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystalFlowers/pseuds/CrystalFlowers
Summary: Within a few months of starting school at Greenfield University, nineteen-year-old Ari McKinnon is crumbling under the pressure of balancing a job and an education. What he really doesn’t need, on top of all that, is a growing obsession with his literature professor, Chris Hadley.What starts out as a minor crush—a desire that Ari doesn’t ever plan on leading anywhere—quickly escalates into a secret, illicit, full-blown affair. Ari finds himself swept up into Chris’s world, exploring and discovering parts of himself he never knew existed before. Chris is everything Ari never knew he wanted, and Ari is drowning beneath a relationship that couldn’t possibly survive.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 14
Kudos: 111





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an original work I wrote for fun, so I thought I'd post it on here! I've only written a little bit of erotica before, but this was my first real crack at it. Hope you enjoy ;)  
> Also just as a disclaimer, although the power dynamics interested me enough to write about, let's all agree that a professor dating their student IRL is super gross and not okay. Fiction is not reality and this kind of relationship isn't something I condone.  
> Anyway enjoy the story! I'm on tumblr at crystalflowers.tumblr.com if you want to come chat with me :)

“Dude, are you okay?”

Ari raised his head from his arms and stared, bleary, at his coworker. The café where they both worked was empty, but fifteen minutes ago there had been a line out the door as the morning rush had passed through. Ari had slept maybe four hours the night before, and his head was throbbing from a hangover, and the last place he wanted to be was here. “I’m fine,” he said anyway.

His coworker, Nellie—or maybe it was Nathalie or something, they didn’t really talk much—raised her eyebrows skeptically. But maybe she saw something in Ari’s expression, because she didn’t push him on it. “When is your shift over?” she asked.

Ari rubbed at his forehead. “Uhh,” he said, “In an hour, I think.”

He’d spent last night at a party with his hallmates, and he was deeply regretting it now. He didn’t really like his hallmates in the first place, but he’d been so antisocial all year that he’d caved when they’d asked him to come with. The party had been all the way across campus at the Sun House, where the luckier of the upperclassman lived. There had been a keg and an enormous bowl of jungle juice and a pile of cheap beer, and Ari had quickly lost track of the amount of drinks he was having.

He hadn’t even met anyone like he’d been hoping. He’d come to college hoping to find other people like him, maybe even to date, since he didn’t have any relationship experience to speak of. His roommate and many of his hallmates seemed to be dating all over the place and bringing people home every other night, and Ari didn’t understand how they were doing it.

He made a silent promise to himself, as he tried to rub the exhaustion from his temples, not to be peer pressured into any more stupid parties. Midterms were coming up, and he wanted to finish his first year of college with decent grades. He had two papers due and a midterm exam on Friday, and he hadn’t started preparing for any of them.

“Don’t let the manager know you’re hungover,” Nellie suggested, and Ari sighed.

“I’m not hungover,” Ari lied. “Just tired.”

“I’ve been hungover at work enough times to know what hungover looks like,” Nellie said. She would understand, Ari reasoned—Nellie went to the same school Ari did, although they were two years apart and in different majors so they never really saw each other outside of work.

At the last minute, Ari had decided to go into a literature program. He was going to be an English major, and didn’t really know what he wanted to do with his degree. His advisor kept telling him to be patient and that he’d figure it out, but everyone else already seemed to have their ten-year plan figured out.

Once Ari graduated, he’d have to find a job right away. He’d taken out massive loans just to go to this school, and he’d have to pay them off at some point. This job as a barista barely gave him enough extra money to get by, and it certainly wouldn’t pay the bills once he was out of school.

“Find a sugar daddy,” Nellie had suggested, when Ari complained about this during work. She was mostly joking, and Ari had just rolled his eyes. But he was worried that he would, actually, be that desperate at one point.

Ari straightened, readjusting his apron. “I’ll go restock,” he said. “You man the register.”

Nellie saluted and stepped over to the register. “Roger,” she said.

Ari restocked napkins and stirrers and sugar packets. He didn’t mind this kind of work, actually—he preferred having time to think and time where he wasn’t being yelled at by customers. People were especially mean in the early mornings, when they were all sleep deprived and desperately searching for their first hit of caffeine.

Ari glanced over at one of the tables, searching for ones that needed to be wiped down. Most of them were empty, but a few of them were taken up by college students, their heads bent over their laptops. They looked the way Ari probably did, their eyes shadowed and red from exhaustion and their shoulders hunched with anxiety. There was a well-dressed man sitting at the table closest to the door, however, and he was familiar. The man glanced up and met Ari’s gaze, and Ari’s heart jumped into his throat.

The man was in his mid-thirties. His hair had a couple gray streaks through it but otherwise he appeared youthful; his jaw was square and covered in neatly-trimmed stubble, and his eyes were dark brown, a shade darker than his hair. He’d arranged his hair so it was carefully swept back, and his clothes were sharp, a long black overcoat over a crisp white button-down, a red scarf draped artfully around his neck.

Ari considered pretending he hadn’t seen the man at all, but then the man smiled at him, so Ari approached him tentatively. “Hi, Professor Hadley,” Ari said.

“Good morning,” Professor Hadley said. He raised his cup, as though in toast. “Have you had some of this new dark roast? It’s delicious. I’ve never had anything quite like it.”

“No, I’m not really a dark roast kind of person,” Ari said. “I’m more of a vanilla latte kind of person.”

Professor Hadley’s smile widened. His eyes twinkled and his thumb rubbed absently at the rim of his coffee cup. “You’ll grow out of that,” he said. “By your senior year you’ll be drinking straight espresso. Trust me—it happens to everyone.”

Ari made a face; he couldn’t help it. Professor Hadley just laughed, and Ari’s skin went hot.

“How’s your paper coming?” Professor Hadley said.

“Um,” Ari said, shuffling his feet. “Well, I’ve started, anyway. Sort of.”

Professor Hadley’s smile remained in place. His gaze was understanding. “It’s challenging balancing school and social life your first year,” he said.

“It’s not really that,” Ari said. He gestured vaguely to the café. “It’s just that I’m here all the time. I barely have any time to even finish the readings every week.”

“I see,” Professor Hadley said. “Are you working full time?”

“No, not quite,” Ari said. “Management won’t let us work full-time, so I’m working thirty hours, give or take. Six hour shifts most mornings.”

“That’s quite the challenge,” Professor Hadley said.

Ari shrugged. “I can’t really cut back, or I won’t be making enough money,” he said. “I can barely pay tuition as it is.”

Professor Hadley nodded thoughtfully. He sipped his coffee, draining his cup, and set it back down on the table. He stood, and Ari blinked, startled, by how tall he was. “You’ll find the balance soon,” Professor Hadley said. “Just remember to ask for help if you need it. My office is always open.” He smiled. “And I’d be happy to work with you on your paper with you if you’d like.”

Ari nodded. “That would probably help. I’m a little lost right now.”

Professor Hadley’s eyes twinkled again. “Literature can be like that sometimes,” he said. “Especially when it’s old literature.” He pulled his bag onto his shoulder. “Come find me on campus when you’d like some help. My office is listed in the syllabus.”

“Thanks,” Ari stammered. He watched as his professor headed out the door, which tinkled gently behind him. Ari grabbed his discarded cup, bringing it into the back.

* * *

Ari hadn’t expected to go to college. Nobody from his family really went to college—it wasn’t an expectation.

He’d grown up in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere, in a family of six. He had four siblings, his father was never home, and his mom made very little money. Their financial situation had never been ideal, and college had been pretty much out of the question. His parents had barely expected him to graduate high school.

Ari had spent the last two years of high school working nonstop to get his GPA up and make his application as crowded with extracurriculars and achievements as possible. He’d joined band, volunteer work, math club, anything he could squeeze into his schedule. He’d applied for scholarships and to a dozen different schools. Even with scholarship money and financial aid, he’d been forced to take out loans.

It was worth it. He’d gotten into three schools and he’d chosen the one that was farthest away from home as possible. He was desperate for the chance to get away from his hometown and his family, and gain some semblance of independence. He’d never really been able to be himself at home.

“Man, Ari,” Landon, Ari’s roommate, said one evening. “Do you ever have any fun?”

Landon had just come home from a party around eleven, and Ari was busy working on a paper. He was huddled up at his computer, wearing sweat pants and a sweatshirt, a blanket draped over his shoulders. He blinked over at Landon. “I’m not really much of a party-er,” Ari said.

Landon shed his jacket. He flopped down on his bed, folding his arms behind his head. “You could have come with me,” he said. “It was fun. There were lots of cute girls there.”

Ari curled his legs on top of his chair, resting his chin on his knees. He tapped his fingers on the keys of his computer. His word document blinked out at him from the screen; he’d barely managed to write a few paragraphs, and he’d been working on it for four hours. Nothing he was writing came out the way he wanted it to. “I don’t really need to meet cute girls,” he said.

Landon snorted. “Damn. You’re dedicated, I’ll give you that.”

Ari shrugged. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to meet people, he just didn’t really know how. Not only that, but he didn’t really have the time. Between work and classes, he barely had time to eat and sleep. Going to college was supposed to be his chance to find himself and claim his freedom, and admittedly he wasn’t doing much of that.

“So, we can approach this scene in multiple ways,” Professor Hadley said in class the following afternoon. “As we’ve discussed, if we look at it through a more feminist lens, there are some questionable aspects to the relationship and the way it’s being developed at this point in the story. However, we need to consider the author’s intention, and we can be fairly certain he was not trying to portray the relationship that way.”

Ari tapped the end of his pencil against his notebook. He was slouched at the edge of the lecture hall, half-listening while Professor Hadley went over the book they’d just spent the majority of class discussing. Ari had stayed up until three in the morning working on his paper and then he’d dashed off to his shift at the café in the morning, so he’d barely had time to finish the reading. He hadn’t gotten much out of it, anyway. 

“In your papers, I saw some interesting discussions about the theme of identity and how that affects the core relationships throughout the book,” Professor Hadley said. He folded his arms and leaned back against his desk. He was wearing a v-neck sweater today that hugged the lines of his arms. Ari found himself fixating on that instead of listening to what the professor was saying. “When you look over my comments, think about how you can strengthen your arguments by approaching them from different sides. Counterpoints can actually make your own arguments stronger if you can contradict them succinctly.”

Professor Hadley handed back their papers and Ari’s eyes went wide when he saw the big red A at the top of the page. _Well-argued points_ , was scrawled beside the title in the same color. _Very impressive. Keep it up!_

Ari’s stomach swooped with relief. He smiled and slipped the paper into his bag.

“Ari,” a voice called, before he could leave. Ari turned back, his backpack slung over one shoulder. Professor Hadley was gazing at him from his desk; he beckoned Ari over, smiling. Ari swallowed apprehensively and crossed the room, pausing in front of his professor.

“Is something wrong?” Ari asked.

“Not at all,” Professor Hadley said. “I just wanted to discuss your paper. You’ve made a lot of progress this semester.”

“Thanks,” Ari said. He smiled wryly. “It doesn’t really feel like it.”

Professor Hadley tilted his head curiously. “It doesn’t?”

Ari shook his head. “I feel like I’m just faking my way through this class. I didn’t expect to do so well on this last paper. I felt like I bullshitted the whole thing.”

Professor Hadley smiled. “I never would have guessed that if you hadn’t told me,” he said. “It didn’t come across that way.”

“It didn’t?”

“No. Your arguments were succinct and well backed up with textual evidence, and your essay was well-structured. What you wrote was clear and concise. I was very impressed.”

Ari huffed a breath. “Thanks. That’s a relief.”

Professor Hadley tapped his fingers on his arm. “You still have a lot of room to grow, of course. If you feel like you aren’t understanding the material properly, however…” He paused, his brow furrowing as though in thought. “Hmm. Maybe…”

“Maybe…what?” Ari said, nervous again.

Professor Hadley paused again, pursing his lips. Finally he unfolded his arms and straightened, reaching for the leather satchel resting on the ground beside his desk. He rooted around in it for a moment and then pulled out a slip of paper. He handed it to Ari. “I think you might get something out of this. A few faculty and I will be there—it would be a chance for you to hear authors read their work and talk to them about their process.”

Ari took the paper and glanced down at it. It was a flier for a book fair and a reading at a local bookstore. Ari looked back up at professor Hadley. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to come to this?” he asked.

“Of course,” Professor Hadley said. “It’s open to anyone who’s interested.” He arched an eyebrow. “Sounds like something you’d like, then?”

Ari nodded. “Definitely,” he said. “I’ll be there. Um, thanks, Professor Hadley.”

Professor Hadley smiled. “You can call me Chris. I’m not particularly formal.” He stepped around his desk, reaching for his bag again. “I’ll see you this Saturday.”

* * *

Ari had only been to one poetry reading in his life and he felt the need to dress up for this one.

Eventually he’d settled for a pair of black jeans and a button-down top. He tried to do something with his hair, force the waves of auburn to lie the way they were supposed to, but it was hopeless. He hadn’t been able to afford a haircut in months, so the length was getting away from him a little. As he pulled up to the bookstore in an Uber, Ari briefly wondered if he should have just worn a hat or something.

Everyone at the event seemed much older than him, in their thirties and forties. Academic types, mostly, dressed in blazers and scarves and ties. Ari spent the first twenty minutes of the event pretending to examine books and avoiding people as he waited for the reading to begin. He was flipping through a thick novel idly when a voice said, “I see you found the place.”

Ari’s head jerked up. Chris Hadley was at his elbow, holding two drinks, one in each hand. “Professor,” Ari said, “hi. I mean, Chris. Yeah, I found the place. Thank you for inviting me.”

“Of course. I’m glad you could come.” Chris held out one of the drinks. It was amber-colored and there was a slice of lime on the rim of the glass. “Don’t worry,” he added, when he saw Ari’s wary expression. “I remember you like sweet drinks. It’s Moscow mule.”

“I’m underage,” Ari blurted, before he could stop himself.

Chris shrugged. “I won’t tell if you don’t tell,” he said. He glanced at the book Ari was holding. “Find something interesting?”

Ari glanced down at the book. “Oh,” he said. “Not really. It’s about some tortured middle-aged guy who gets cheated on.” He replaced it on the shelf and took the drink from Chris. “Thanks.”

“I think I saw a few things that might be more interesting for you,” Chris said. He rested a hand at the small of Ari’s back and guided him past several shelves, instead to a table with stacks of novels arranged on its surface. “Here, these. I especially like _Songbird_ and _Echochamber for the Instant_ , they’re both fascinating looks at human interconnection.”

Ari glanced at the sign above the table. These books were all written by queer authors. Ari’s face went hot—he wondered how his professor had read him so easily. Was it really that obvious?

He picked up _Songbird_ and gave the back cover a quick read. He smiled. “I love dystopian fiction,” he said. “I used to read books like these all the time in middle school.”

“This is better than any YA book you’ll read in middle school,” Chris said, tapping the cover. “More depth. The characters are so well-constructed they feel real. None of the clichés you’re used to—this author knows how to subvert your expectations.”

They talked about books until the book reading started. Ari enjoyed listening to the readings more than he thought he would—some of the authors were poets, some of them more comedic, some of them so dramatic it made Ari’s eyes roll. He sipped his drink and tried valiantly to ignore his professor’s presence beside him. Something about the proximity made Ari’s skin itch, a restless, tingling feeling that he couldn’t seem to shake. He wondered if it was something to do with the alcohol.

Chris was swirling the contents of his glass thoughtfully after the reading was over. The rest of the crowd dispersed, filtering towards the doors or towards the shelves to buy books. “I wasn’t a fan of the poet who wrote about his dead cat,” Chris said. “I mean, of all the things to write about…” He shook his head, and turned in Ari’s direction. “Never mind. What did you think?”

“It was interesting,” Ari said. He smiled wanly. “I actually liked the cat poem.”

“Really.” Chris arched an eyebrow. “Cat person, hm?”

“No, but I think there was an underlying metaphor there—I don’t think it was about his cat at all. The imagery about _his blank stare straight ahead_ and _his face white as bone_ , that’s not how you’d describe a cat. I have the feeling he was describing a parent’s death or something, and he was using the cat to process it.”

Chris stared at him for a few long moments. He blinked. “That didn’t even cross my mind,” he said. He smiled, then, his eyes twinkling. “I told you. You have a knack for this.”

Ari laughed. “Only when I’m drinking,” he said.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Ari. You’re very talented.”

They lingered in the store for a while longer, chatting about books and about the authors who’d read their work, until Ari realized how late it had gotten. He called and Uber, and Chris insisted on waiting outside with him. “I should say hello to Adam Yang before I leave,” Chris said thoughtfully while they waited, his gaze on the bookstore’s double doors. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen him outside of campus.”

Adam Yang was one of the authors who’d read his work. “You know him?” Ari said, surprised.

“Yes,” Chris said. “He went to Greenfield U. Graduated five years ago. He was incredibly motivated, and he had a particular talent for imagery. He knew how to make his images sharp and precise, with just the right amount of detail. Never failed to impress me.”

Ari shoved his hands into his pockets. His breath fogged the air out in front of him as he exhaled. “Do you think that kind of thing just comes from natural talent?” he said.

Chris shook his head. He turned back to Ari and smiled. “I’m sure natural talent doesn’t hurt,” he said. “But it doesn’t matter if you’re not willing to put in the work.”

Ari pursed his lips, frowning, and Chris laughed. “Nobody ever said it was easy,” Chris said. He tilted his head. “Are you hoping to be a writer after you graduate?”

“I don’t know,” Ari said. “I don’t know if I’m good enough.”

“You’ll never know if you don’t try, Ari.” Chris reached out, his hand resting, warm, against Ari’s shoulder. It was a friendly gesture, but Ari’s skin seemed to erupt with goosebumps beneath his coat, the same tingling feeling from earlier shivering across the surface of his body. “Stop doubting yourself,” Chris continued, squeezing Ari’s shoulder gently. “You’ve already made quite a bit of progress, from what I can tell. It’s difficult to see yourself clearly sometimes.”

Ari swallowed. His throat didn’t seem to be working well enough for him to reply.

His car pulled up and stopped at the curb. Chris dropped his hand and smiled. “Have a good night,” he said as he turned away, heading back towards the bookstore. He winked, and then added, “I’m looking forward to reading your final paper.”

* * *

That was the point where Ari realized he might have a bit of a problem.

He wasn’t one to fantasize, really, and he wasn’t one to develop crushes. He was realistic and cynical on his good days, and he wasn’t one to get hung up on someone who was unattainable. Despite all of that, Ari found himself thinking, with alarming amounts of frequency and in alarming amounts of detail, about his college professor.

As spring semester dragged on and March bled into April, Ari should have been focusing on preparing for finals. Instead, he found himself zoning out in the middle of class, focusing on the way Chris Hadley’s stupid v-neck sweaters hugged his arms and his broad shoulders, on the line of collarbone the neckline revealed, on the way the sleeves rolled up to reveal tan, toned forearms. Ari would barely hear a word of the lectures as a result.

It didn’t help that he was picking up more hours at the café, too. He stayed up late most nights just to finish his readings, and then he was up a few hours later for work. He hardly found time to eat, let alone sleep. The sleep deprivation, on top of the distracting lust, was letting his grades slip startlingly quickly.

One afternoon he was practically falling asleep during class and he had plans afterwards to take a nap back in his dorm room, provided his roommate didn’t have his girlfriend over or something. As exhausted as he was, Ari wasn’t sure he could sleep through the sound of the headboard banging against the wall. As he stood to leave, however, gathering his things, a voice from the front of the lecture hall called out to stop him. “Ari?” Chris’s voice said, and Ari whipped his head around in surprise. Professor Hadley beckoned towards him with one hand. “A quick word, please?”

Ari sighed and briefly considered making a break for the doors. He’d been avoiding interacting with Professor Hadley too often, especially one-on-one, out of fear he’d do or say something stupid. But he shook himself off— _get a grip, idiot_ —and hiked his backpack onto his shoulder, crossing to the front of the room.

Chris Hadley eyed him critically. The scrutiny made Ari shift uncomfortably. “I noticed you were dozing off a bit during class today,” Chris said. “Are you feeling all right?”

Ari nodded. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I just haven’t been sleeping much lately. I was trying to pay attention—I did all the reading, I just—”

Chris shook his head, cutting Ari off. “I’m not trying to berate you, Ari,” he said. “I just wanted to check in on you. I know you’ve been working hard, and especially with your job at the café it must be a challenge to stay on top of everything.”

“I can handle it,” Ari said, his reflex whenever anyone asked him if he was doing too much. Teachers in high school had done it all the time—his English teacher when he’d fallen asleep in class, his advisor when he’d fallen behind on job applications, his band teacher when he’d forgotten his violin for a third day in a row. _Are you sure you’re not taking on too much? You need to make time for your mental health, Ari. Maybe it’s time to scale back a little. I don’t want you getting overwhelmed._

Chris continued searching Ari’s face. His eyes were very dark, and his gaze made Ari feel exposed. Ari shifted his feet against the floor, resisting the urge to cross his arms protectively over his chest. “Have you started your final paper yet?” Chris asked.

“Not yet,” Ari said. “I’m not really sure what I want to write about yet.”

Chris nodded. “Well, you know when office hours are, right?” he said. “When you’re ready, I hope you’ll reach out for help. That’s what we’re here for.”

Ari nodded jerkily. “Thanks, prof—um, Chris.”

Chris smiled. He folded his arms, leaning back against his desk. “I know you feel like you need to balance everything,” he said, “but it’s all right to take time for yourself. You’re supposed to have fun at college, after all—meet new people, go to parties, that sort of thing. The world won’t end if you take a few moments to rest.”

“It might,” Ari said. He couldn’t help himself.

Chris’s smile widened. “It’s hard to change your habits when you’re used to keeping busy. I should know—when I started college, I was just like you.”

“You were?” Ari said, surprised.

Chris nodded. “I worked all the time,” he said. “I didn’t spend any time with friends, I let a good relationship fall through, and I didn’t go to any social events. It took me a long time to realize how miserable I was.” His gaze was thoughtful. “Eventually, I started paying closer attention to the small things. I found pleasure in unexpected places, and I let myself enjoy those things. You’d be surprised how much everything can change when you allow yourself to be self-indulgent once in a while.”

Ari swallowed. He tightened his hand over the strap of his bag.

“So, Ari,” Chris continued. “What is something you’re really passionate about—something you really want?”

Ari opened his mouth and closed it again. The truth was that he didn’t know what he was passionate about. He’d come to college more or less aimless, and he’d only taken on a literature major because it had seemed convenient. Passion aside, though, there was definitely something he _wanted_ , very badly, and it was standing right in front of him. For a paranoid, frightened moment, Ari was convinced that Professor Hadley _knew_ , that he could see the desire somewhere in Ari’s face and was about to call him out on it.

Ari was silent for several beats too long. His face went hot and he was about to stammer out something, anything to break the silence, when a voice at the entrance to the lecture hall said, “Professor Hadley?”

Ari whipped his head around. An unfamiliar student was approaching down the steps toward the two of them. “Ah,” Chris said. “Lisa, that’s right. We were going to discuss your paper.”

“Is this a bad time?” Lisa asked.

“Not at all.” Professor Hadley smiled at Ari. “Remember what I said, Ari,” he said. “Try and find that balance. And come to office hours if you need help with your final paper.”

Ari nodded jerkily. “Thanks,” he said. He turned and practically ran out of the classroom.

He headed home and was so distracted that he didn’t even hear Landon saying his name when he stepped into their room. “You good, dude?” Landon said, when Ari finally jerked his head up.

“Yeah,” Ari said, blinking at him. “I’m good.” He realized Landon was packing a bag, and frowned. “Where are you going?”

Landon grinned. “Heading to a friend’s place for the night. Says it’s a study group, but they’re inviting a bunch of cute girls and all we’re going to do is hang out and smoke weed. It’s going to be awesome.”

“Cool,” Ari said. “Have fun.”

Once Landon was gone, Ari flopped face-first down onto his bed and buried his face in his pillow. His muscles were tense and he found himself thinking about the night of the poetry reading, the warm grip of Professor Hadley’s hand on his shoulder, the smile on his face as he’d said _You’re very talented._

Ari squeezed his eyes shut and groaned into his pillow. It was stupid, so, so stupid. He shouldn’t even be thinking this way. But he couldn’t get the feeling of Professor Hadley’s hands out of his head and before he realized what he was doing, Ari was tugging at the button of his pants and yanking them open.

He rolled onto his side, taking his half-hard cock in his hand. It was just a fantasy, he told himself. It wasn’t real. It didn’t matter.

He took the pillowcase between his teeth and shoved his jeans down, his boxer-briefs with them. He jerked his hips into his fist, too sensitive, overwhelmed. He moaned against the pillows and stroked more slowly, fighting the desperate arousal tightening at the pit of his stomach. He hadn’t done this in weeks, and he was unbearably pent up now.

He wondered what it would feel like, having Professor Hadley’s hands touch him like this. He wondered if Chris would touch him slowly like this, his fingers big and warm and rough. He wondered if Chris even liked men, if Chris had touched someone like that before, if he’d had thoughts like this about Ari, too. He wondered what Chris’s voice would sound like, murmuring low in Ari’s ear, saying things like _you’re doing very well_ and _you’re beautiful, Ari_.

Ari muffled a cry with the pillows and bucked his hips, his hand pumping between his legs. He choked and pleasure swelled in his body, sharp and almost painful. He broke underneath it, coming in thick spurts over his fingers, shaking and biting down hard on his lower lip. He was panting when it was over, his whole body tingling.

He groaned and rolled onto his back. He was _fucked_.

* * *

“Given up on writing that paper, huh?” Landon said.

Ari raised his head an inch. It was a Friday afternoon and he’d just finished his last class of the day; he’d intended to get straight to his final paper for his literature class, but he didn’t have an ounce of motivation in his body. Instead he’d thrown himself facedown on his bed, his face mashed into his pillow, and he’d been there for the past fifteen minutes.

“Shut up, Landon,” he muttered, his voice muffled by his pillow.

Landon tossed aside his backpack and sat at the edge of his own bed, facing Ari’s direction. “You’re burnt out, man,” he said. “I don’t know how you’re still functioning.”

“Me either, most days,” Ari said. He closed his eyes and sighed. He’d finally chosen a topic for his final paper, but for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to write it. The words wouldn’t come. It was pathetic, but Ari wanted really, really badly to impress Professor Hadley, and he kept worrying his writing wouldn’t be good enough.

He was only growing more obsessed. He couldn’t stop staring at Chris’s hands during class and thinking about him at night, and he was going crazy.

Landon clasped his hands between his knees. “You need a night off,” he said. “Come with me to this party tonight. The School Spirit Squadron are throwing a social night at the Esquire, that bar downtown. Free food and beer and stuff. It’ll be fun.”

“I don’t know,” Ari said. “I should really work on this paper or I won’t get it done on time.”

“You have plenty of time,” Landon said. “You have all weekend, right? Come on, man, have some fun tonight. Have a drink. Meet someone new.”

Ari rolled his eyes, but he pushed himself up. “Fine,” he said. He swung his legs over to the side of his mattress. “But just for a little while. Let me get changed.”

He put on some slightly nicer clothes, a sweater and a pair of jeans, and Landon drove them both downtown. Their campus was a ten minute drive from a stretch of shops and restaurants—it was small, but charming, and there were places with really good food and a nice park with benches and a fountain and stuff.

The bar was already crowded with people when they arrived. A handful of people were playing pool and a couple more were in a heated game of ping pong. A group of students were siting together at a table decked out in Yellow and Green university merch, hoodies and leggings and sweatpants, playing quarters and knocking back beers.

“I’m going to get a drink,” Landon said. “You want?”

“I probably shouldn’t,” Ari said. “Only nineteen, remember?”

“So?” Landon said. “Nobody cares.”

Admittedly, the world did feel a lot more manageable when Ari had a couple of shots down. It wasn’t until he was on his third drink, a beer, he realized that he hadn’t eaten in eight hours.

The alcohol hit him all at once. He wasn’t really used to drinking; the rules about drinking water in between drinks and eating beforehand and waiting until the alcohol kicked in to order another weren’t things he was familiar with. The room started swaying before he was even finished with his beer.

He stopped caring eventually, even though he was supposed to go to work early the next morning and even though he had a paper he was supposed to write. Instead, he danced to music and played ping pong against a few seniors and played quarters with Landon. Landon eventually disappeared to make out with some girl in the corner of the bar, so Ari went back to the bar for another drink.

The room was definitely tilting around him now, and he didn’t care. This was what college was supposed to be like, after all—what had Professor Hadley said to him earlier that week? Something about self-indulging. That’s what he was doing—indulging.

He finished his drink and slid off the stool, determined to challenge the senior he’d played at ping pong earlier to a rematch. Instead, he tipped forward, the floor bucking alarmingly beneath him. He probably would have tumbled face-first to the ground, but a pair of hands caught him.

Ari staggered into something solid and warm, something smelling of bourbon and cloves. “Easy there, Ari,” a familiar voice said, and Ari’s stomach dipped. “I think you might have taken my advice a little too seriously.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who's checked out this story so far! <3

In all his years working in higher education, and there were quite a few of them now, Chris had never dealt with anything quite like this.

At first, he’d been very good at ignoring his sudden urges. When he’d first spied Ari on campus—at an art exhibition, one he’d only attended because several of his former students had submitted pieces to it—he’d shrugged it off as a passing compulsion. Lord knows he’d had plenty of those in his lifetime, and there wasn’t usually a good reason for them; it was an impulse, nothing more than that.

It was probably something about Ari’s hair, wavy and soft, or the tightness of his jeans, or the way he gazed at the art pieces with fascinated intensity. He was adorable, but he was also a freshman and so Chris had resisted the immediate urge to cross the room, slip his number into the boy’s pocket, and offer to buy him dinner right then and there.

He thought that would be the end of it. Unfortunately, Ari had then shown up in Chris’s introductory nineteenth-century lit class. Lecture after lecture, there he was, wavy hair curled against his temples, pencil twirling around his fingers, his very presence cracking at Chris’s self-control bit by bit.

Chris probably could have gotten through the semester without speaking to Ari at all, except then Chris had made the mistake of getting coffee at the shop where Ari worked. Ari had caught Chris looking, and instead of running in the other direction, he’d approached and said hello. Somehow he looked even more adorable than usual in his work apron and cap. The curls of his hair wouldn’t be contained; locks of it spilled out from beneath the brim and brushed his forehead. Chris imagined reaching up to tuck them back beneath his hat, letting his fingertips linger on the curve of Ari’s cheek and the line of his jaw.

His self-control only continued to crack; when he invited Ari to a book reading, he half-hoped Ari would say no. But Ari went, and Chris spent the entire time trying to keep his hands to himself and maintain professional distance. It didn’t work. He was going insane.

And now here he was, his hands clasped at Ari’s shoulders to hold him upright while Ari swayed against him, clearly drunk. “Are you all right, Ari?” Chris asked.

Ari raised his head, blinking in bemusement. His face was flushed from the alcohol and his eyes were glassy. He reached up, curling his fingers into the arms of Chris’s jacket. “Professor Hadley?” he said. His voice was a little slurred. “What’re you doing here?”

“I was coming in for a drink,” Chris said. “Didn’t know there was a whole party happening here.” He smiled. “Looks like you’ve already had quite a few.”

Ari licked his lips. He moved closer, until, _fuck_ , until Chris could feel the line of Ari’s body pressed against his own. “Only a couple shots,” Ari said. “And a couple beers. Not that much.”

“Too much for you, though, maybe,” Chris said. He smoothed his hands gently along Ari’s shoulders, squeezing his upper arms. “I think maybe you should get home. Get some rest.”

Ari tilted his head. “I finally picked a topic for my final paper,” he said, like he wasn’t even listening.

“Oh?”

“I want to write about the…the um…” Ari frowned briefly, like he was trying to remember. “The physical manifestation of protagonists’ desires in the way they present themselves. Like imagery, metaphor, and how that reflects their core motivations. I want to compare two books.”

“Which two?”

“Not telling.” Ari smiled. “You’re going to have to wait to read it.” He tightened his grip slightly on Chris’s arms, and blinked slowly. He swayed a little. “You’re strong.”

Chris smiled at him. “And you,” he said, “are drunk. This isn’t what I meant when I said you should enjoy yourself, you know.”

“Then what did you mean?” Ari said, tilting his chin up. He was very close now, much too close, and he smelled like coffee. His gaze was challenging, almost. Chris’s stomach tightened harshly.

When Chris didn’t answer, Ari continued, “I think about you a lot. Like a lot, a lot.”

Chris raised his eyebrows. He knew he should put a stop to this, immediately, before things could get more out of hand than they already had, but his curiosity won out instead. “Is that so?” he said. “What are you thinking about, exactly?”

Ari’s throat jumped. His face flushed more deeply. “Things I probably shouldn’t be,” he said. He swayed again, like Chris’s hands were the only things keeping him upright. “I think about you a lot at night, especially, when I’m alone in bed. Is that weird? I shouldn’t be thinking about you like that.” His lips were parted, his gaze searching Chris’s face. “I can’t help it. I mean you’re—you look—” He closed his eyes briefly and grimaced. “I don’t feel good.”

“Come on,” Chris said, gathering whatever was left of his virtue and letting go of Ari’s arms. Instead he slipped his arm around Ari’s waist, tugging him towards the doors. “I’ll take you back to the dorms.”

“What?” Ari said, resisting. “No. I don’t want to go back to the dorms. My roommate will be there. He’ll probably be having sex.”

Chris smiled. “I’ll take you back to my place, then,” he said. “You can sleep in the guest room.” When Ari hesitated, Chris said, “I want to make sure you’re safe, Ari. I don’t think you should be alone tonight.”

Ari relented. Chris suspected he was too drunk to bother arguing. Chris drove them back to his house; he lived just outside of town, in a classic two-story home where he’d been for the past fifteen years. He’d spent years renovating and decorating it, and now it was just the way he wanted it, clean and organized and homey. He was proud of the art and furniture he’d gathered to balance elegance and comfort, modern and classic.

Ari let himself be herded upstairs to the guest room. It wasn’t often used, so it was spotless, the bed made neatly as it always was. Ari sank onto the edge of the mattress, running his fingers along the comforter, and Chris leaned against the doorway, folding his arms. “Will this do?” he asked.

Ari looked up, nodded. “It’s warm in here,” he said.

“I imagine that’s the alcohol,” Chris said. “I can bring you some clothes to sleep in, if you’d like. I don’t think I have much that will fit you, but I can look.”

Ari shook his head. “I’m fine.” He gazed at the curtains for a moment, his eyes bemused and glassy, his fingertips tracing circles against the top of the comforter. Then he turned back to Chris, suddenly, and pushed himself off the mattress. “Why did you invite me to that poetry reading?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” Chris said. “You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

“But you didn’t invite any of your other students,” Ari said. “Just me. Why me?” He came closer, walking a little unsteadily. “And you brought me back to your house. Why are you being so nice to me?”

Chris’s shoulders tensed. Ari was close enough that Chris could smell the scent of coffee again. It always seemed to linger on Ari’s skin and in his hair. “I don’t want you getting the wrong impression, Ari,” Chris said quietly. “I’m not trying to show you preferential treatment. If I’m making you uncomfortable…”

“You aren’t.” Ari’s voice came out in a rush. His face went red, but he continued, “You don’t have to worry about…overstepping, I mean. If—if you want to.”

Chris’s stomach tightened again, flipping over inside him. Ari was so gorgeous, and he was practically asking Chris to give in to impulse, and Chris’s self-restraint cracked just a little bit more. Ari’s inhibitions were worn down from the alcohol, however; Chris guessed he wouldn’t even remember any of this the next morning. 

Chris’s legs were moving anyway, before he could stop them. He stepped closer. “So,” he murmured, “you’re saying you want me to…take advantage of you?”

Ari shivered lightly. He wet his lips and opened his mouth as though trying to speak, but nothing came out. Chris came closer again, until the two of them were inches apart. “You want me to ignore the fact that you’re drunk,” Chris continued, “and the fact that you’re my student, and do what I want with you?” He reached up, and he dragged his thumb along Ari’s jaw, his cheek, the way he’d been wanting to for weeks. “Are you sure you won’t regret it in the morning?”

Ari’s body was trembling. He made a sound like a whimper and leaned into Chris’s touch, like he was deliberately trying to test Chris’s self-control. “I…” he breathed. “I’m…”

Chris smiled. He dropped his hands and stepped backwards, putting space between them. Ari stared at him, flushed, breathing heavily, confused. “Get some rest, Ari,” Chris said. “I’ll bring you some water and see you in the morning.”

* * *

Chris felt oddly buoyed the following morning.

Logically, he knew pursuing this…this _impulse_ towards Ari was a terrible idea. In some ways, knowing that Ari had these feelings was worse—it gave Chris one less reason to keep his distance.

He still had plenty of other reasons, of course. His career, for one. His morals, another. The fact that Ari was his student should have been enough for him to shrug off the incident and put space between himself and Ari. Chris was much older, and in a position of power over him—if this went any further, Ari might end up falling into a situation that made him uncomfortable or that he ended up regretting.

Regardless of all of that, Chris still found himself feeling uplifted that morning. When Ari appeared downstairs, Chris was in the middle of making breakfast, eggs and toast for both of them. Ari was fully dressed when he stepped into the kitchen but his hair was a mess and his eyes were bloodshot. He went still at the sight of Chris and his face turned bright red.

Chris smiled at him. “Good morning, Ari,” he said. “Did you sleep well?”

Ari nodded. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

Chris nodded his head towards the coffeemaker. “There’s coffee if you’d like some. I imagine you’ll need it after the night you had.” He raised his spatula. “You’re also welcome to eat something before you leave.”

Ari crossed the kitchen, pouring himself a mug of coffee. He cradled it in both hands and sipped, slowly, leaning against the kitchen counter. It wasn’t until Chris had turned off the burner beneath the eggs that Ari finally spoke. “I’m sorry,” Ari said. His gaze was fixed on the surface of his coffee. “About everything last night. You didn’t need to do all of this for me.”

“Sure I did,” Chris said. He spooned eggs onto two plates. “I couldn’t very well leave you alone at that bar and let you get yourself into trouble.” He grabbed the toast from the toaster. “Did you take the aspirin I left you?”

“Yeah. Thank you.” Ari chewed on his lower lip. He ran his thumb along the edge of his mug, and when he spoke again his voice was rushed. “Last night, when I said those things, I didn’t mean it.” His gaze was still on his coffee, and his face was going red again. “I was drunk. I wasn’t thinking straight. I just…want you to know that.”

Chris set down the toast on the two plates and turned to face Ari. “Oh?” he said. “You mean the part where you told me you were attracted to me? That part?”

Ari closed his eyes. He set aside his coffee cup, covering his face in both hands. “I made such an idiot out of myself,” he said, his voice a little muffled. “I’ve never done anything like that before, ever. I—I don’t know what came over me. You were so nice, and I repaid you by—by just—”

“Ari, please, relax.” Chris came closer, smiling in a way that he hoped was reassuring. “I was nothing but flattered. A little surprised, of course, but mostly flattered.” He folded his arms and tilted his head, curious. “So, you’re saying you didn’t mean any of it? Even a little?”

Ari stared at him. He worried his teeth along his lower lip, the way he had last night. He opened his mouth, closed it again, lowered his eyes.

Chris sighed. “Listen, Ari,” he said. “I suppose I made it pretty clear last night how I feel, and I’m not trying to pretend it didn’t happen. But I don’t want to do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable.” Ari opened his mouth to speak, but Chris held up his hand. “Let me finish. It was out of bounds, even bringing you back here last night, even if I was trying to help. And I don’t want to push you into anything, even accidentally. So, regardless of how I feel, if you’d like me to keep my distance now, I will.”

Ari’s throat leapt. He shook his head. “I don’t want that,” he said.

Chris gazed thoughtfully at Ari for a few moments, silent. “Listen,” he said finally. “I can see you’re overwhelmed. You’re exhausted and overworked, and worried about finals—this isn’t something you need to think about right now. Why don’t you go home and work on your final paper, and we can talk once things have settled down a little.”

Ari seemed to relax a little. “All right,” he said. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone, and glanced at the screen. “I’m sorry. I should go, I’m late for work.”

“Of course. Do you need me to drive you?”

“No,” Ari said quickly. “You’ve already done a lot to help me, I can get there on my own.”

“Suit yourself.” Chris smiled and headed for the counter. “See you in class on Tuesday, then. I’m looking forward to reading your paper.”

* * *

Ari had never felt quite so humiliated.

He’d gotten so good at keeping his inappropriate thoughts to himself. Alcohol, however, had other ideas. Ari made a silent promise to himself to never, ever drink again.

The worst part, worse than going to work with a hangover, was that Ari couldn’t get the feeling out of his head of Chris Hadley’s fingertips against his skin, his thumb brushing along Ari’s cheek, his gaze warm and dark and unwavering. Ari spent the entire weekend fighting back those memories every six seconds while he tried to finish his essay.

The smart thing, of course, would be to pretend nothing had happened and maintain a strictly professional relationship going forward. The thought of that made Ari’s insides feel hollow.

By Tuesday, he’d finished and turned in his essay. He jumped right from that into studying for his final on Monday, and staggered into the following week with the joyous knowledge that classes ended on Tuesday. The dorms didn’t close until Friday, and Ari was starting to worry about where he was going to stay over the summer. He didn’t want to go home, but he wasn’t getting very lucky finding housing and he couldn’t stay on campus. He didn’t really want to, anyway—the dorms didn’t have air conditioning and they were hot as all hell now that it was getting warmer.

Ari fully expected poor marks when he got his essay back, but the marks were good—very good. Professor Hadley called him over before he could leave; he wore a lot of button-down shirts now that it was warmer, and the top button was always undone, leaving a strip of tan skin visible. Ari desperately tried not to stare as he crossed to the front of the classroom.

“You delivered on your essay,” Chris said. “It was very good. Well-organized and thought-provoking.”

Ari smiled teasingly. “You’re not just saying that because I’m your favorite student?” he said.

Chris chuckled. “I can’t go around showing favoritism, you know that,” he said. He leaned back against his desk, tilting his head curiously. “How did the rest of your final exams go?”

“Fine, I think,” Ari said. “I’m just relieved it’s over. I need to figure out where I’m staying this summer.”

“You’re not going home?”

“I’d rather not,” Ari said. “I only will if I have to.”

Chris’s brow furrowed thoughtfully. He tapped his fingers against the edge of his desk, a gentle, rhythmic sound. “Let me take you to dinner tonight,” he said finally, unexpectedly.

Ari’s eyebrows shot up. “Huh?” he said.

Chris straightened, pushing off the edge of his desk. “Come to dinner with me tonight,” he repeated. “My treat.”

Ari swallowed, his throat suddenly very dry. His mind spun with possibilities. “Why?” he managed.

“I just want the chance to talk, away from campus,” Chris said. “I know this lovely little Italian place, just outside of town.”

Ari fidgeted uncertainly for a moment, but free food was free food, and the possibility of being alone with Chris was even more appealing. “Okay,” he said finally. “As long as you’re paying.”

Chris smiled. He reached behind him for a stack of post-its and scribbled a couple lines on the top one. “This is the name of the place. I’ll meet you there at seven.”

He handed over the post-it, and Ari slipped it into his pocket.

* * *

“You never did tell me why you decided to be a literature major.”

Ari sipped his water and glanced up, and Chris smiled warmly at him from across the table. They’d just ordered their food, but Ari’s stomach was so twisted with nerves he wasn’t sure he’d be able to eat. He had no reason to be this nervous, really—Chris hadn’t set any expectations for tonight, and it was so remarkably comfortable, really, talking to him.

Ari tugged restlessly at his button-down shirt as he thought about how to answer. It had taken him ages to choose the right thing to wear, something that wasn’t too formal but still dressy enough for a nice restaurant. This place wasn’t a five-star restaurant or anything, but it was elegant and cozy.

“I’m not sure, really,” Ari admitted, finally. It sounded kind of lame, but it was honest. “At first I thought I wanted to do biology, or some kind of science. I thought it would lead to a better job. But the only thing I’ve ever really been passionate about was reading, so English was the obvious option.”

“And now?” Chris said. “Are you happy with your decision?”

“Yeah,” Ari said. “I guess I am. I’m a little worried about what I’ll do after I graduate.” Chris raised his eyebrows curiously, so Ari continued, “If I don’t want to get stuck back in my hometown, I’ll need to find a job somewhere right away. My family grew up really poor, so I had to take out loans just to go to school. By the time I’m finished with school I’m going to be swimming in debt—I’m going to need to pay it back somehow.”

“So, what would your dream job be?” Chris asked.

“I’m not sure yet,” Ari said. “Writer, maybe. I did a little writing in high school.”

The waiter swept by to set their food down in front of them. It was incredible; Ari groaned at his first bite and closed his eyes in pleasure. “Wow,” he said. “You were right.”

“Mm,” Chris said, watching Ari’s face from across the table. He cut off a piece of his chicken and held the fork out across the table. “Here, try this.”

Ari leaned across the table, taking the piece of chicken in his mouth. It was maybe even better than what Ari had chosen for himself. “Wow,” he said.

“Good?” Chris said.

Ari nodded. He hesitated, and then set aside his fork. “Why did you bring me here?” he asked, before he could lose his nerve. “I mean, not that I don’t appreciate it. But…I don’t really understand.”

Chris trailed his fingertip idly along the rim of his wine glass, his brow furrowed thoughtfully. “Well,” he said, “I’ve been thinking about it lately—about what you told me, about what we talked about. And I’ve spent the past few days and even weeks trying to avoid you and trying not to think about you, and I’m tired of it.”

Ari stared at him. “Oh,” he said. His voice was a little breathy.

Chris smiled. He leaned forward on the table, his eyes fixed on Ari’s now. “If you’d like, we can pretend what happened the night at my house didn’t happen at all,” he said. “Is that what you’d prefer?”

“No,” Ari said. “I don’t want that. But, well…” He glanced around the room restlessly, suddenly paranoid. “Even just meeting outside of class like this—isn’t it sort of against the rules? If…if we ever did anything else…I mean, you could get fired. I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Oh,” Chris said in surprise. He blinked, and a soft smile crossed his face. “Ari, you’re worried about me losing my job?”

Ari shrugged. “It’s possible, right?”

“I suppose, yes,” Chris said. “However, nobody would have to know but us.” He smiled again. “Don’t worry about me, Ari. I know how to handle myself.”

Ari took another sip of water. His face felt very warm when he set aside his glass. “I’ve been thinking about you for months,” he mumbled, staring at the tablecloth. “I really thought it was just me.”

Chris continued to gaze at him from across the table. His expression was thoughtful again. “I was thinking, actually,” he said. “I have an idea, if you’re interested. It might sound a little strange, but hear me out, all right?” When Ari nodded, Chris set aside his wine glass and leaned forward on the table. “From what you’ve told me and what I’ve seen this semester, you’re overworked. You’re pulling late nights and early mornings and taking on 30 hours a week at the café. You’re struggling to get your work done and you’re exhausted. I was thinking I could help with that.”

“What?” Ari said, confused. “How?”

“Well…” Chris paused, searching Ari’s face, though Ari wasn’t sure what he was looking for. “You need housing for the summer. I have a spare bedroom. If you’d like, it can be yours.”

Ari’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. “You—you want me to come live with you?” he said. “In your house?”

“Temporarily, at least,” Chris said. “You can stay with me next term, too, if you decide you want to. You won’t have to work so many hours at the café that way, and you’ll be able to focus on your course work.”

“But…why?” Ari said, bewildered. “Why would you do that for me?”

Chris’s gaze went dark, suddenly, intense with something that Ari hadn’t ever seen before. “Because I want you,” Chris said. “Because I’ve wanted you for months, and I’m tired of pretending.”

Ari’s body went hot, like it was filling with boiling water. He opened his mouth and closed it, his mind spinning as he sorted through a thousand different questions. “So,” he said, his voice unsteady, “what, I agree to sleep with you, and you let me stay in your spare room? Is that the deal?”

Chris chuckled. “You don’t have to sleep with me at all,” he said. “I just want to do something that will help you, and get the chance to spend some more time with you.” He raised his eyebrows. “Will you think about it?”

Ari pictured it inside his head, spending his time at Chris’s gorgeous two-story house instead of an old, falling-apart dorm room. He pictured falling asleep on a cushy queen-sized bed on a quiet residential block, instead of on a narrow Twin XL while he tried to shut out the sounds of his roommate’s loud music. He’d be living with a gorgeous man who wanted him, wanted him badly enough that he was willing to risk his job and offer up his home.

And Ari might as well admit it, his fantasies were getting out of control. He wanted so many things at once, and having that proximity to Chris might make any one of them a reality.

“Okay,” Ari said. “I’ll think about it.”

Chris nodded. He picked up his wine glass again. “We might have to get some of that crème brulee for dessert,” he said, changing the subject abruptly. “It’s been calling my name since I saw it on the menu.”

They finished their food—and their dessert, which Chris had easily talked Ari into—and then Chris insisted on taking Ari back to the dorms. “Thank you for the dinner,” Ari said as they stepped into the lobby. The building was quiet and empty. “It was really good.”

“It was my pleasure,” Chris said. “Thank you for agreeing to come with me.”

Ari smiled. He hesitated, shuffling his feet. Chris had stepped close to him, his hands in the pockets of his jacket, and he smelled like cloves again. Ari craned his neck to meet Chris’s gaze and his stomach twisted, turning itself inside out.

“Something’s still bothering you,” Chris said, voice low. “Isn’t it?”

Ari swallowed. “I—I just—” He hesitated, and then said in a rush, “I’ve never…done anything with anyone. You know—physically.”

Chris’s eyebrows went up. “Never?”

Ari shook his head. “I’ve done a few things,” he said quickly. “But never with a guy. Nobody in high school knew I was gay. I’ve never even…” He lowered his gaze, staring at the ground. “I’ve never even kissed a guy.”

Chris was quiet for a moment. He stepped closer again; when Ari looked up, Chris was inches away and smiling softly at him. “Well,” Chris said softly, “we can remedy that, if you like.”

Ari’s throat went dry. His heart flew up into his throat, thudding in his ears, so loud he wondered if Chris could hear it.

Chris reached for Ari’s face, his hands gentle but firm against Ari’s jaw, holding him steady as he bent closer. He paused before they touched, as though to gauge Ari’s reaction, but whatever he saw there seemed to reassure him.

His mouth pressed against Ari’s, warm, still careful, the stubble of his jaw rough against Ari’s skin. Ari shivered and sighed and reached for Chris’s jacket, curling his fingers into the fabric against his chest. Chris gave a low sound when he felt Ari respond and his lips parted Ari’s, fingers sliding into Ari’s hair. Ari could feel something mature in the way Chris kissed him, something in the way he tilted his head to change to a better angle, something in the way his tongue stroked Ari’s, careful and gentle and hot.

Chris kissed him again. One hand slipped free of his hair to snake around his waist, instead, his fingers splayed at the small of Ari’s back. The fingers of his other hand curled tighter into the hair at the nape of Ari’s neck, just at the edge of too-tight. Ari’s whole body was already going hot and he was trembling, overwhelmed, turned on. He leaned into Chris’s chest and a moan crawled its way out of his throat; Chris’s fingers tightened in Ari’s hair in response and his other hand slipped lower, dipping beneath the hem of Ari’s jacket.

Their hips slotted together and Ari shuddered, gasped, just realizing now how hard he was. The arousal pooled in his stomach, tightening into a knot, so intense it made him go dizzy. “Chris,” he panted. “Wait, I’m—”

Chris drew back immediately, his hands resting lightly on Ari’s shoulders instead, as though to steady him. “I’m sorry,” Chris said. “I got a little carried away.”

Ari shook his head. “It’s okay,” he said. His voice was still breathy. “I just…I’m not used to it. That’s all.”

Chris smiled. He raised his hand to Ari’s face, his thumb stroking a slow line across his jaw. “I should probably get going anyway,” he said. “Before someone catches me here with you.”

Ari’s eyes blew wide. “I didn’t even think of that.”

Chris chuckled. His hand lingered on Ari’s face, thumb stroking his cheekbone now. “Did you like that?” he asked. When Ari nodded, Chris smiled. “Good,” he said. He dropped his hands. “Think about my offer, all right? We can talk about it on Friday when the dorms close, so you have a little time to think about it.”

He turned towards the door, but Ari reached out, grabbing his arm before he could leave. “Wait,” Ari said. Chris turned back, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t need time to think about it,” Ari said. “I’m in. I want to take you up on your offer.”

Chris smiled. “Excellent,” he said. “Get packed, then, and I’ll pick you up tomorrow afternoon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, things get spicy ;)  
> Leave a comment if you enjoyed!


	3. Chapter 3

When Ari had woken up in Chris’s house several weeks ago, brutally hungover, he hadn’t really paid much attention to the room or the decor. He’d been so focused on getting out of there before he could humiliate himself further.

Now, when he arrived at Chris’s place the day after classes ended, he could really take it all in. Chris’s house was sleek modern two-story, with big glass windows and white walls. The inside was warm, well-lit, and artfully decorated. A thick red rug and a stone fireplace made the living room feel cozy, and the decorative lamps and art made it feel expensive. The smooth oak dining room table was classy and formal-looking, but the bulb lights hanging from the ceiling and the knick-knacks placed against the walls made the room feel eclectic.

It was all a perfect balance. Ari wondered if Chris had been an interior designer or something in a past life.

“I hope the room is all right,” Chris said. He led Ari into the guest room, dropping Ari’s suitcase on the floor. “I washed the sheets since you last stayed here, but everything else is the same. You’re welcome to make any changes you like.”

“It’s perfect,” Ari said. He ran his fingertips along the edge of a colorful lamp, watching the way the light made his fingers glow. There were big windows on the walls at the far corner of the room, and they’d been opened halfway to allow cool air into the room. “Much nicer than the dorms, anyway.”

“Hmm,” Chris said. “That’s true.” He was leaning against the doorway, arms folded. Ari could feel Chris’s gaze as he followed Ari’s movements, and it made a tingling feeling shiver up Ari’s spine. Ari had never felt quite so _watched_ before, like Chris was drinking in everything he did and enjoying it. It made Ari feel exposed, but in a way that was exciting. “I’ll let you get settled,” Chris said after a moment. “Feel free to shower, or rest, or whatever you need. I’m going to make something for dinner—I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

Ari nodded. “Thank you,” he said.

Chris smiled. His eyes were still watching Ari closely, thoughtful, curious, but he didn’t move closer, just slipped out of the room and closed the door behind himself. Ari sank onto the edge of the bed and clenched his fingers together, gulping in deep breaths of air in an attempt to calm himself.

When that didn’t work, he showered, and then spent the next hour unpacking. When he didn’t have anything else to distract him, he followed his nose downstairs, where he could smell lemons and rosemary and hear the sizzle of cooking olive oil.

Chris was standing over the stove, an apron tied around his waist, the sleeves of his sweater rolled up to his elbows. He looked over when he heard Ari approach, and smiled. “Good timing,” he said. “The food is almost ready.”

“What are you making?” Ari asked, coming closer.

“Fish in a lemon-caper sauce,” Chris said, “and an arugula salad for a side.”

“It smells amazing,” Ari said.

Chris grabbed a fork and used it to break off a piece of fish, holding it out towards Ari. “Here,” he said. “Taste.”

Ari moved closer and let Chris slip the fork into his mouth. “Mmm,” he sighed, chewing. “Wow.”

Chris set aside the fork. “Thank you,” he said. “I like to try and make things that are healthy but still taste good. It’s a challenging balance sometimes.”

“You’re much better at it than the Greenfield dining hall,” Ari said.

They sat together in the other room to eat, the lighting low and warm. The food was delicious, and the white wine Chris broke out paired perfectly with it. Chris had even lit a few candles in the middle of the table for ambiance. “Have you thought about what classes you want to take next semester?” Chris asked as they were finishing. “I know you can’t choose just yet, but is the literature track still your plan?”

“I think so,” Ari said. He smiled wanly. “I guess I can’t take classes from you anymore, huh? Conflict of interest.”

“Hmm,” Chris said. “Maybe not. We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it.” He shrugged. “I like to think I’m capable of objectivity when necessary. But it’s possible I could be subconsciously biased without meaning to.”

“Were you this past semester?” Ari asked. “Was everything about my talent and knack for literary analysis just because you wanted to sleep with me?”

Chris smiled. “No,” he said. “Not at all.”

They cleaned up from dinner; Chris carried their used plates to the sink and then returned to the dining room while Ari was busy pouring more wine into his glass. “I’m so used to the five dollar wine with the foot on the label,” Ari said. He hopped up onto the edge of the table and sipped from his glass. “This is a whole lot better than that.”

Chris stepped into the dining room, drying his hands on a white cloth. “Life is too short for bad wine,” he said.

Ari smiled. He sipped some more wine. “Do you have some kind of private wine storage or something?”

“Something like that,” Chris said. “I’ll show you sometime.”

He set aside the cloth and then came closer, stepping up to the table. Ari blinked up at him, startled by the sudden proximity. Chris’s gaze was full of intent, an expression that hadn’t been there before.

Chris reached out and took the half-empty wine glass from Ari’s grip, setting it aside on the table. He stepped closer again until he was standing between Ari’s legs, and his hand curled beneath Ari’s chin, tilting his face up. Ari shivered, parting his mouth as Chris leaned closer, letting their lips slot together.

Chris hummed and his thumb stroked Ari’s jaw, slow, warm. His other hand braced against the edge of the table, entrapping Ari’s body. His tongue slid, careful, gentle, against Ari’s, his mouth tasting like lemon and rosemary. Ari curled his fingers into the front of Chris’s shirt, his skin tingling wherever Chris touched him.

Chris slipped his fingers into Ari’s hair, kissed him again, harder this time. Ari moaned, an involuntary sound from the back of his throat.

Chris sighed in response. His his free hand rested on Ari’s thigh over his jeans, his fingertips trailing gently over the fabric. His fingers slipped beneath Ari’s shirt, finding bare skin, and Ari tensed, whimpered. Chris hummed and both his hands dipped beneath Ari’s shirt, fingers exploring along the skin of his back and the line of his ribs.

Ari’s legs squeezed instinctively, tightening around Chris’s body as his hips jerked forward. The friction made him gasp, and Chris made a soft sound, as though pleased. He rested his hands at the small of Ari’s back, tugging encouragingly. “It’s all right, Ari,” he murmured, pressing soft, teasing kisses along Ari’s jaw, moving down towards his throat. “We’re going to take things nice and slow.”

Ari’s breath was coming in pants. He’d never been so turned on like this before, and he wanted so many things at once; his brain was muddled with arousal.

Chris raised his head, kissing Ari on the mouth again. Ari unclenched his fingers from Chris’s shirt and snuck his fingers beneath the fabric instead, astounded by the hot skin and solid muscle he found there. “Ari,” Chris said, drawing back slightly. His hand hooked beneath Ari’s chin, holding him still. “Listen to me. If we’re going to do this, then I want you to promise to be mine, no one else’s. I don’t want anyone else touching you but me.” He dragged his thumb along Ari’s lower lip; his gaze was dark and intense. “Understand?”

Ari nodded. He leaned into Chris’s touch.

“Ari,” Chris said, “answer me, darling.”

Ari shivered. “I understand,” he said. His voice came out breathy and tight with arousal.

Chris smiled. “Good,” he said. He dropped his hand. “Come on. Let’s go upstairs.”

He took Ari into his bedroom. A big canopy bed with soft blue sheets took up most of the room, and big windows over the far wall looked out over the back garden. Next to the window was a row of tall bookcases and a light gray loveseat. Glowing lamps threw he room into soft, warm light. Chris closed the door behind them once they were inside and leaned back against it, folding his arms. “Take your clothes off for me, Ari,” he said.

There was something commanding in his voice, and it made Ari’s stomach curl and twist into a hot, shivery knot. He reached up to undo the buttons on his shirt and Chris watched, his face half in shadow, as the fabric dropped to the ground. Ari tugged off the t-shirt beneath it and then reached for the button on his jeans, hesitated. He’d never been naked in front of anyone before, especially not when he was this aroused.

Chris raised his eyebrows, and Ari shook off the moment of self-consciousness. He undid the button on his jeans and slipped them off, stepping out of them in just his boxer-briefs. “Good,” Chris said, voice soft. He straightened, unfolding his arms, and came closer. His hands took hold of Ari’s face, gentle but firm, and he held Ari still as he pressed their mouths together.

Ari shivered, a new feeling of vulnerability skittering across his skin now that he was undressed. Chris’s hands slipped lower, squeezing his backside, letting their hips rock together, and Ari whimpered.

“Lie down,” Chris said, his voice rougher than before. He shifted Ari backwards, and Ari stretched out on the soft mattress on his back, watching as Chris unbuttoned his own shirt, shrugged out of it. The years of healthy living had left Chris with toned muscle; his skin was tan and glowed gently in the lamplight.

Chris smiled under Ari’s gaze. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of Ari’s boxer briefs and slid them down Ari’s thighs, tossing them aside, leaving Ari completely naked and achingly hard. Chris trailed his fingers along Ari’s thighs, his eyes going dark as he knelt between Ari’s legs.

He kissed Ari again, slow and hot and deep, their bodies tangled together on the mattress. His lips traveled down Ari’s throat, teeth nipping gently at his skin, tongue stroking the same spot afterwards. He moved lower, kissing gently at Ari’s collarbone; his mouth found Ari’s nipple and Ari gasped, mouth dropping open in surprise.

Chris smiled up at him. He stroked his tongue over Ari’s chest, worried his nipple gently with his teeth, his thumb stroking circles against the other one at the same time. A moan escaped Ari’s throat, surprised at how good this felt. “Do you like that, darling?” Chris asked, raising his head briefly, a smile on his face. “Do you ever touch yourself here?”

Ari shook his head, flushing red. Chris hummed thoughtfully and his hand slipped between Ari’s legs, curling gently around his cock. He stroked once, experimentally, and Ari’s mouth went slack with pleasure just with that gentle touch. He felt too sensitive, wound too tightly, like the right pressure in the right place would send him tumbling over the edge of orgasm immediately. He moaned, a desperate, choked sound, and his hips jerked into Chris’s fist.

Chris smiled. “Mmm,” he sighed, stroking again, rolling the thumb of his other hand against Ari’s nipple. “You get so wet. That feels good, doesn’t it?”

Ari tried to answer, but all he managed was another moan. Chris moved lower, and Ari watched, wide-eyed, as Chris’s hands slipped beneath his thighs, pressing them gently apart. “Hold still now, darling,” Chris murmured, and then his mouth was at Ari’s cock, tongue dragging a slow line along the underside.

Ari wailed, back curling, fingers twisting into the sheets, gripping. “I’m—wait—” He choked out a desperate moan when Chris did the same thing to him again, his tongue hot and wet against the most sensitive part of Ari’s cock. Ari tried to raise his head, panting, shaking. “Professor, I’ll come,” he begged, “please—”

Chris groaned, and his hands tightened on Ari’s thighs. He took Ari into his mouth fully, and Ari’s body fairly convulsed. He held on by a thread while Chris sucked him, shaking and panting too hard to speak, pleasure making him dizzy and breathless. Chris pulled off right as Ari was about to tumble over the edge; Ari made a desperate sound of protest and lifted his head to see what Chris was doing, confused. “Chris,” he panted, “please, don’t stop—”

“I know, darling,” Chris said. He was reaching for something, rummaging in the bedside table beside the mattress. “I need you to be patient for me.”

He was holding a bottle of something in one hand; he pressed back Ari’s legs, gently, and then his fingers, wet and slick, were rubbing at Ari’s entrance. Ari tensed in surprise, and Chris smiled. “Have you ever played with yourself here?” he asked.

Ari flushed, embarrassed, but nodded. Chris’s eyes darkened a little. “Good,” Chris said, slipping one finger inside Ari’s body. Ari whimpered, but Chris was so gentle, patient, letting Ari get used to it, not pushing him. “Keep still a little longer, Ari,” Chris said. “You’re doing very well.”

Ari shivered under the praise. Chris worked two fingers into him, sliding them in and out slow and careful, his lips pressing against Ari’s inner thighs. When Chris’s fingers found Ari’s sweet spot and his tongue started to tease, again, at Ari’s cock, it was almost too much. Chris was holding his body right at the edge of orgasm, aching with pleasure and trembling with the need for release.

“Professor,” Ari cried, when he couldn’t take any more. His toes curled and he white knuckled the covers beneath his body. Chris’s fingers were deep inside him, playing his body like an instrument, and Ari was in agony. “Please, _please_ —” He struggled to catch his breath through the pleasure blurring his vision; it was all he could do not to buck his hips into Chris’s mouth, in a desperate attempt to get enough friction to come.

“Good boy,” Chris murmured. His voice was low and rough, and the sound of it sent a shiver right up Ari’s spine. “You can come, darling.”

He took Ari back in his mouth, his tongue working at the sensitive underside of Ari’s cock. Ari moaned, low and desperate and overwhelmed, as body broke apart beneath it, pleasure rocking through his body in waves. Chris worked him through it expertly, encouraging every wave of pleasure, stopping right as Ari was getting too sensitive. Ari’s chest heaved and his whole body felt wrung out, numb and tingling. He stared at the ceiling in a daze while he caught his breath.

Then Chris’s face was there, hovering above him, and his mouth was on Ari’s. Ari sighed, reaching up to curl his fingers into Chris’s hair. “Did you like that?” Chris asked, drawing back briefly.

Ari nodded. “I’ve never felt that good before,” he whispered.

Chris smiled. He kissed Ari again, and again.

Chris drew back, then, and undid the front of his jeans. Ari’s stomach fluttered nervously when he realized what Chris was going to do; he watched, rapt, as Chris stepped out of his jeans and then his boxers. He was stunningly hard, and he smiled under Ari’s attention. “If you don’t like this, we’ll stop,” he said, reaching for something in his bedside drawer again. He ripped open a condom and rolled it onto his length. “Just relax, darling. I’ll go slow so it doesn’t hurt you.”

Chris had prepared him well. There was a feeling of stretching, of pressure, but almost no pain. Ari had never done this before, so he didn’t really know how it was supposed to feel, but he liked it. Chris paused once he was inside, breathing heavily. His jaw was tight and his muscles were tense, as though he was struggling to hold back. He groaned, low in his throat, and rocked his hips gently, allowing Ari to get used to it.

“Good,” he said roughly. “You took that so well, baby.”

Ari’s mouth dropped open in surprise when Chris changed the angle, suddenly hitting something inside him that sent a shock of pleasure through Ari’s body. “ _Oh_ ,” Ari gasped.

Chris chuckled, low and pleased. He started to move, then, holding the same angle, unerringly hitting the same spot. He was clearly fighting to hold back; his breathing went ragged and his hands clenched on Ari’s skin, a low groan escaping him. “ _Fuck_ ,” he panted, and then he was throbbing deep in Ari’s body.

Ari moaned at the feeling. Chris exhaled and his hand curled back around Ari’s cock, rubbing. “Come on, darling,” Chris said. “Let’s see you come again.”

“I can’t,” Ari moaned. He was so sensitive, too sensitive, and he wasn’t sure he could take another orgasm.

“Yes you can.” Chris’s voice was low and authoritative. His hand was stroking Ari’s length just right, exactly right, and Ari couldn’t have resisted if he’d wanted to. He gave choked, desperate sound and clawed at the sheets, his body giving into the pleasure as he spilled for the second time. Chris’s voice was there, praising him, low and approving. “That’s right,” he murmured, stroking Ari carefully through it. “Good boy. Just like that.”

Ari slumped, shaking, gasping for breath. Chris’s lips pressed into his hair, against his throat. “How do you feel, darling?” Chris murmured.

Ari sighed. He closed his eyes, letting his head fall back. “Good,” he mumbled. “Really good.”

“Hmm,” Chris sighed. He straightened a little. “Rest here, Ari. I’ll be right back.”

Ari watched Chris leave, and then curled up on top of the covers, closing his eyes. He didn’t intend to, but he drifted off like that, tumbling into sleep.

* * *

Chris worked most summers, leading tutoring sessions and summer courses. He woke up early the next morning to head off to work.

Ari was still fast asleep when Chris emerged from his shower; Chris smiled down at him as he pulled on a shirt. Ari had slept long and hard all night, not even waking up when Chris had cleaned his skin off with a damp cloth and shifted him beneath the covers. Chris couldn’t blame him. They’d had a busy night.

Chris sat at the edge of the mattress for a moment, gazing at Ari’s sleeping face and reveling in the fact that Ari was his, if only temporarily. It seemed too good to be true, really.

Chris was reluctant to leave, but he knew he couldn’t stay home all day. He left a note on his night stand— _I’ll be at work most of the day. Relax and make yourself at home, text me if you need anything. I’ll see you later tonight._

It was difficult to focus that day, in spite of how busy he was. While he worked on lesson plans and attended faculty meetings, Chris was thinking about the night he’d spent with Ari, replaying every detail he could remember. He felt like a horny teenager or something, rather than a 35-year-old man. He was anxious to return home and see how Ari was reacting to everything that had happened.

When he stepped inside the house after work, he could hear the sound of music drifting somewhere from the kitchen. Chris toed off his shoes and set down his bag, following the sound of music and the smell of cooking garlic.

Ari was standing over the stove in the kitchen. He was barefoot and wearing just a pair of shorts and a button down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He hummed along to the song that was playing as he worked, stirring a pan of something steaming and bubbling. Chris smiled and watched him, leaning against the wall beside the entryway, arms folded.

“Enjoying yourself already?” Chris said.

Ari jumped and spun around, staggering back into the edge of the counter. “How long have you been standing there?” he demanded.

Chris chuckled. “Not long,” he said, stepping into the kitchen, hands in his pockets. “What are you making?”

“I, um…” Ari seemed to be recovering from his scare. “I was making pasta. I thought I’d surprise you, since you made dinner last night.”

“You don’t need to do that, Ari.”

“I know, but I’m living here, aren’t I?” Ari said. “I want to try and contribute, at least a little bit.” He turned off the stove. “How was work?”

“Not great,” Chris admitted. “I kept losing focus. Did you get some time to settle in today?”

Ari nodded. “I spent most of the time in your library upstairs,” he said. “You have quite the collection.”

“True. I’m quite proud of it.” Chris came closer, tilting his head. “How do you feel? Is your body sore at all?”

Ari’s face reddened a little. “No, not really,” he said. “I’ve never done anything like that before, but I always expected it to hurt a lot. I didn’t think it would feel that…good.”

Chris smiled, pleased. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

He was already losing what was left of his self-restraint. Ari had agreed to be his, only his, and they were alone together here, and the smooth skin of Ari’s thighs was all just _there_ , on display, and those shorts were so _tight_ —

“I was thinking,” Ari said, breaking Chris out of his thoughts, “maybe we could, um…talk about expectations, though? Like…how this is going to work?”

Chris raised his eyebrows curiously. “Of course,” he said. “What’s on your mind?”

“Well, I’d like to stay on with my job,” Ari said. “I need to keep saving money to eventually pay off my loans. And I don’t know if you’re hoping for me to pay rent, or—”

“I’m not,” Chris said. “Of course not.”

Ari nodded, businesslike. “In that case, I’d like to do some things around the house to help out. Cleaning, cooking—that sort of thing. Whatever is most helpful. I like to stay busy.”

Chris smiled. “Certainly,” he said. “If that makes you happy. Anything else?”

“Well…” Ari hesitated. His voice was rushed when he spoke again. “When you said you didn’t want, um…anyone else touching me…does that go both ways?”

“Oh,” Chris said, a little surprised. “Of course that goes both ways. I’m sorry I wasn’t clear about that.” He came closer, smiling again. “Are you worried I’d want to pursue someone else?”

Ari shrugged, clearly trying to be nonchalant, but he seemed relieved. “Maybe,” he said. “I don’t really know how this kind of thing works,” he said.

Chris reached for Ari’s waist, hands resting there. “Can I lay out a couple of expectations myself, then?” he said. When Ari nodded, Chris continued, “While you’re here, I hope you’ll feel comfortable and tell me if you need anything—but I also expect that when I ask for you to come to me, you’ll be good and do as you’re told. Understand?”

Ari’s throat jumped, but he nodded.

Chris arched an eyebrow, dragging his thumb along Ari’s jaw. “Answer me, darling,” he murmured.

Ari shivered. “I understand,” he said.

“Good.” Chris kissed him, long, slow. By the time he drew back Ari was flushed and panting and his mouth was red, and Chris absolutely adored him. “I want to know what you like and don’t like,” Chris said, sliding his thumb along Ari’s lower lip now. “Once you’re comfortable, I hope you’ll tell me.”

“I don’t really know,” Ari said, his voice a little breathy.

“Well, then we’ll figure it out together,” Chris said. He gathered his willpower and released Ari’s waist, stepping backwards. “I’ll let you finish cooking.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Drop a comment if you enjoyed <3


	4. Chapter 4

The door to Chris’s bedroom opened, and he glanced up from the papers he was grading.

It was late, after dinner. Chris was sitting in his room on the loveseat beside the windows; he’d been listening to the shower run for the past few minutes and fighting to concentrate. Having Ari standing in the doorway, illuminated by light from the hallway, wasn’t really helping.

“Sorry,” Ari said. His hair was damp and mussed and his skin was glimmering softly with leftover water from the shower. He was dressed as though for bed, in just a pair of boxer-briefs and a loose white t-shirt. “Are you busy?”

Chris smiled and set aside his folder. “Not at all,” he said. He patted the space beside him. “Come here.”

Ari stepped into the room. He perched carefully on the couch, folding his legs on top of the cushions. “I used your body wash,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind. It smelled really good.”

“Hmm.” Chris reached over and slipped his fingers into Ari’s wet hair. Ari went still beneath his touch, letting Chris’s fingertips stroke gently at the nape of his neck. “Are you here to say goodnight?”

“No.” Ari shifted on top of the couch. “I don’t know. Sort of.”

Chris smiled. He fondled a strand of damp hair, letting his fingers trail down along Ari’s throat, catching stray droplets of water that were lingering on his skin. He leaned in and followed the path of his fingers, pressing his lips gently against the space beneath Ari’s ear. “Are you here to seduce me, then?” he murmured, speaking the words against Ari’s throat.

Ari shivered delicately. “N-no,” he said, but his voice was breathless and shaky.

Chris smiled to himself. He let his mouth trail along the length of Ari’s neck, breathing in the delicious combination of coffee and vanilla body wash. He dragged his fingers up and down the soft skin of Ari’s thigh and Ari shivered again in response, his hands clenching tight in Chris’s shirt.

Ari tasted like mint when Chris kissed him. He sighed and opened his mouth, letting Chris’s fingers curl into his hair. “Chris,” Ari panted, in between kisses. His hands tightened in Chris’s shirt, knuckles going white.

Chris drew back, hooking one hand beneath Ari’s chin. “You promised you’d be obedient for me,” he murmured, his voice coming out rough. “Are you going to be good and let me take you to bed?”

Once Chris was settled against the pillows of his bed with Ari in his lap, it was much easier to explore Ari’s skin the way he wanted to. He stroked Ari’s tongue with his own and dragged his fingers over Ari’s ribs, his thighs, through the damp locks of his hair. Ari shivered and shook beneath the ministrations and his hips rocked forward against Chris’s, as though he didn’t realize he was doing it.

Chris gripped his fingers in Ari’s hair and kissed down his throat again, towards his chest, bringing his tongue to one of Ari’s nipples. Ari jerked in surprise and whimpered, but Chris tightened his fingers in Ari’s hair, holding him still. Ari’s body was so much more responsive than Chris ever could have hoped, so sensitive and reactive it was almost too much to handle. The possibilities made Chris dizzy.

Chris sighed, moving to the other nipple, nipping gently with his teeth to make Ari gasp. Chris smiled and rolled his thumb over the first nub, and enjoyed the way the stimulation was making Ari’s legs shake. Ari was dripping between his legs now, his cock rock hard and aching for attention, but Chris wanted to make him wait. With Ari’s body so sensitive, it was so tempting to just tease and tease him endlessly.

Chris raised his head, kissing Ari on the mouth again. He reached over, digging in the bedside table. “Hold still, now, darling,” Chris murmured, squeezing some lubricant onto his hand. “I’m going to make you feel good.”

He slipped his hand between Ari’s legs, smoothing slick onto his length. Ari’s mouth dropped open in pleasure and he moaned, eyes going glassy. He tried on instinct to rock his hips forward into Chris’s fist and Chris tightened his hand on Ari’s bare thigh, warning him. The thought of being the one to teach Ari just how good he could feel, to be obedient and patient, was so delicious it made Chris’s whole body go hot.

Chris stroked him slow and lazy, mapping the places that made Ari cry out, learning what kind of pressure and movement he liked best. Ari’s chest heaved and he braced his hands back on Chris’s legs, every line of his body tensing with pleasure. He watched what Chris was doing to him, panting, shaking, toes curling. He was beautiful.

“Does it feel good?” Chris asked, his voice low. He rolled his thumb over one of Ari’s nipples and Ari huffed a wet moan, his hips rocking forward again in desperation. He opened his mouth as though he was trying to speak, but he just moaned again, louder. Chris made a mental note to tease Ari like this all the time, as much as possible.

“Answer me, darling,” Chris said, slowing his hand.

Ari whimpered. He clenched his jaw hard and swallowed, and then finally managed, “It f-feels good, Professor.”

Chris’s gut swooped. He stroked harder and Ari sobbed, squirmed, truly desperate now.

“Please,” Ari gasped, “Professor, please, I need to come. _Please_.”

“You can’t take any more?” Chris murmured. “I haven’t even been playing with you that long, and you want me to let you come?” He curled his hand around the head of Ari’s cock, stroking hot and tight. “You’re mine, darling, did you forget that? I can do what I like with you.”

Ari shuddered, panting for breath. He nodded jerkily.

“Mmm.” Chris sighed. “We’re going to have work on your patience, aren’t we?” He tightened his hand again. “Go ahead and come, darling.”

Ari huffed a moan of relief. His hips jerked once, twice, and then he whimpered, his body going tight. He spilled all over Chris’s fingers, hot and wet, and moaned again when he was done, his chest heaving desperately. “Chris,” he gasped. “ _Oh_.”

Chris kissed him, slow and long and deep. “Mm,” he said. “Good boy.” He drew back and smiled, gazing into Ari’s face. Ari was still flushed and struggling to catch his breath, eyes glazed with relief and pleasure from his orgasm. “Did you enjoy that?”

Ari nodded. He sighed and pressed his lips against Chris’s, kissing him. “That was wonderful,” Ari breathed. “But I thought you’d…well…”

“I don’t want to put too much strain on your body,” Chris said, stroking his thumb against Ari’s thigh. “I’ll fuck you again once you’re good and ready.”

Ari shifted, and his eyes went wide when he felt how hard Chris still was. “Can I—should I—” Ari hesitated. “I kind of want to…um, to suck you.”

“Have you ever done that before?” Chris asked, but his body was already going hot at the image of Ari’s mouth around him. Weak, perverted person he was, he’d definitely fantasized about that before he and Ari ever so much as touched.

Ari shook his head. “You can tell me if I’m doing something wrong,” he said. “But I want to try.”

Chris dragged his thumb across Ari’s cheek. “Good,” he said. “Go on, then.”

Ari settled between Chris’s knees on the mattress, undoing the button on his jeans. He just licked experimentally at first, his tongue warm and wet. Chris stroked his fingers through Ari’s hair, still damp from the shower and from sweat but still just as soft as it always was. “That’s good, darling,” Chris murmured. “Take it into your mouth now. Don’t push yourself.”

Ari took him down obediently. Although he’d never done this before, he’d clearly learned a few things elsewhere; he kept his lips sealed over his teeth to keep them out of the way and opened up his throat as he drew Chris deeper. Chris groaned, and tightened his fingers in Ari’s hair on instinct. “Good boy,” he said roughly, and Ari shivered. It seemed he enjoyed a bit of praise. Chris could certainly work with that.

Ari drew back, ran his tongue along the underside of Chris’s cock, took him back down again. He glanced up curiously, as though making sure he was doing something right, and Chris clenched his jaw hard. Ari was simply too much for him.

Chris didn’t last long like this, especially after being so aroused for so long. He managed a warning before he spilled, and Ari pulled off just in time, letting Chris spill into his hand. Chris tugged Ari back into his lap and kissed him, again and again. “Mmm,” he sighed, drawing back. “You did very well, Ari.”

Ari seemed pleased. “Really?” he said.

“Yes. Are you sure you’ve never done that before?”

Ari shook his head. “I was just trying to do what you did,” he said. “And I’ve…you know…read some stuff.”

“You’re a quick learner.” Chris kissed just beneath Ari’s ear. “Which is fortunate, because I have so much to teach you.”

* * *

“I’ve been thinking,” Ari said Friday evening.

Chris glanced over. He and Ari were cooking dinner together; Ari had worked all morning, and they’d both arrived home at around the same time. Ari was gazing at the pan of onions he was stirring, as if they were holding his full attention, but his face had gone pink. “Thinking?” Chris asked.

“About our arrangement,” Ari said. “And how you asked me to…to tell you what I like, and what I want.” He glanced over briefly, but looked away quickly. “I’ve been thinking about it lately.”

“Oh?” Chris said, curious. “What have you been thinking about?”

Ari worried his lip between this teeth. Chris resisted the urge to push him—he knew from experience that it was better to let Ari come to him, when he was ready and comfortable. “I kind of like it when you…um…when you sort of took control. I didn’t know I liked that sort of thing before.”

Chris smiled at him. “Good,” he said. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Ari turned down the temperature on the stove. “Is that what you usually do?” he asked. “You’re like…a dominant?”

Chris arched an eyebrow. “You know about that kind of thing?”

“A little,” Ari said. He stirred idly at the onions, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. “I’ve never really thought about whether I was more dominant or submissive until now.”

“I see,” Chris said. “Because you’ve never been intimate with anyone before?”

Ari nodded. “So, I was…just wondering…have you done other things like that before? With other people?”

“Yes,” Chris said. “I have.”

Ari looked over at him. His gaze was overtly curious now. “Like what?” he asked.

Chris stroked his chin, thinking. He turned in Ari’s direction and set aside the knife he’d been using to chop vegetables. “Well,” he said, coming closer, “you remember how it felt when I edged you the other night? How badly it made you want to come?”

Ari flushed. He nodded.

Chris reached for Ari’s waist with both hands. “Imagine how that would feel if your hands were tied,” he murmured, stroking his thumbs against Ari’s waist. “Or if you were bound to the mattress, so you couldn’t move. All you could do is take the pleasure and hold still for it.” He tilted his head. “Would you enjoy that?”

Ari swallowed, nodded again. “What about pain?” he asked. “Is that…part of it?”

“It can be,” Chris said. “Does that sort of thing make you nervous?”

“Maybe,” Ari said. “A little. I’ve just never tried anything like that before.”

“I’ll never do anything you don’t want me to, Ari,” Chris said, stroking his thumb against Ari’s cheek in the way that made him blush. “Or anything that makes you uncomfortable. We’ll take things one step at a time.”

Ari relaxed, leaning into Chris’s touch. “Okay,” he said.

The snap of the oil from the pan made Ari jump. Chris laughed and removed his hands, returning to his work so Ari could finish the onions.

Chris was going to have a hard time remembering to keep his hands to himself.

* * *

“We should get you some new clothes,” Chris said.

Ari glanced up from his breakfast. He was sitting across from Chris at the table in mid-July, and they’d both been eating silently for the past twenty minutes. Chris had work in half an hour, and Ari had the day off, but he enjoyed having this routine in the mornings. “New clothes?” Ari said, confused. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

Chris smiled. “Nothing is wrong,” he said. “But I imagine you haven’t been able to afford new ones because you’ve been saving all your money for college. Am I right?”

Ari hunched one shoulder, uncomfortable. He’d never been able to afford new clothes, truth be told. He’d always made do with hand-me-downs from his siblings or used clothes from thrift shops. He’d been hoping to find his own style at college, but now that he was there he was just as broke as he’d always been.

“Hey, Ari.” Chris reached over, resting his hand on Ari’s arm. “I promise I’m not trying to make you feel self-conscious. I just want you to wear what makes you feel good about yourself—whatever makes you feel confident.”

Ari exhaled. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to get all defensive.”

“It’s all right. I understand.” Chris drew his hand back, reaching for his coffee cup. “I used to struggle just to pay rent, you know. I lived paycheck to paycheck for years and years. I was lucky enough to receive inheritance when my father died, and that gave me the funds necessary to get my PhD.”

“Oh,” Ari said, surprised.

“It took me a while to figure out how I wanted to present myself,” Chris continued. “But I want to help you with that, if you’ll let me.”

Ari smiled. “Okay,” he said. “When do you want to go?”

“Let’s go tomorrow,” Chris said. “It’s a Saturday, so I don’t have to do any work. And I think you have the day off too, right?”

“Yeah,” Ari said.

“Good.” Chris stood and took his dishes with him. “I need to run. I’ll see you tonight, darling.”

Over the past several weeks, Chris had proved himself to be a more than Ari had ever expected him to be. He was gentle and attentive and never did anything that made Ari uncomfortable; at the same time, he was commanding and firm and he eased past all of Ari’s reservations and nerves before Ari had time to give in to those feelings.

They spent several nights every week together in Chris’s bedroom. Every time, Chris would expertly tease Ari’s body until Ari was aching and desperate with pleasure, and only then would Chris fuck him, Ari straddling his legs or facedown on the mattress or on his hands and knees or, once, against the wall, Chris’s hands gripping him tight and firm.

Ari had gone from no sex life to speak of, ever, to a sex life so fulfilling and consistent he wasn’t sure how he’d live without it after, inevitably, this whole thing blew up in his face.

On Saturday, Chris drove them downtown, where they explored the local boutiques. Chris led them to the more upscale places; Ari tried to protest, since he could never afford these kinds of places in the past, but Chris insisted. “I’m treating, remember?” Chris said, resting his hand at the small of Ari’s back and leading him down the street. “You deserve clothes that will last.”

Chris selected most of the things Ari tried on. Ari eyed some of the pieces skeptically, but he took whatever Chris gave him. “Just trust me,” Chris said, pushing Ari gently towards the changing rooms. “Try a couple of separates on and then show me.”

Ari stepped reluctantly into the dressing rooms. He selected a checked blue button down and a pair of casual black pants, and completed the ensemble with a sleek black belt. When he emerged, Chris was waiting for him, leaning back against the wall with his arms folded. He looked Ari up and down critically and Ari raised his hands, uncomfortable beneath the scrutiny. “Well?” Ari said.

Chris stroked his chin. His beard had grown out a little lately; the bristles scratched Ari’s skin when they kissed, and his inner thighs when Chris went down on him. Ari went hot at the memory and shook the thought off before his body could react.

“Not bad,” Chris said. He came closer and untucked the shirt from the pants, leaving just the front of it tucked loosely in. “It’s more casual this way. Go ahead and look in the mirror.”

Ari approached the three mirrors at the end of the dressing room and twisted to examine the outfit. Chris was right—untucking all but the front of the shirt made it feel way less dressy, but still more polished than the ripped-jeans-and-sweatshirt outfit combinations Ari usually wore.

Chris stepped up behind him. He was holding a light gray jacket. “Hold out your arms,” he said, and then slipped the jacket onto Ari’s shoulders. “Ah, there. When the weather gets cold again, you can wear it like this. Still casual, but it looks like you put effort in.”

Ari found himself smiling. “I like it,” he said. “You’re good at this.”

“Thank you.” Chris stepped up close and rested his hands on Ari’s shoulders. “It helps when you have a good canvas.”

Ari gave an unsteady laugh. “Sure.”

“Ari…” Chris leaned in, and his lips pressed, softly, into Ari’s hair. “You need to see yourself more clearly. From the moment I first saw you, I had to fight to keep my hands off you. I mean, have you seen the way these pants hug you right here?” His hand slipped down to squeeze Ari’s backside, and Ari jumped, mouth dropping open.

“Chris!” he whispered. “We’re in public.”

“We seem pretty alone to me,” Chris murmured. His lips pressed against Ari’s throat, warm, gentle. “Nobody else is back here with us.”

He was right, but Ari’s stomach still twisted. School wasn’t even in session, and even if it was, it was unlikely anyone would ever see them here, but the possibility made Ari’s throat tight with nerves.

Chris turned Ari around and then he was pulling Ari’s mouth to his. Ari shivered, leaning into him, letting Chris’s tongue slip into his mouth. He tasted like the coffee they’d both had this morning and his hands were tight against Ari’s body, holding them firmly together. By the time Chris drew away, Ari was breathing hard. It was kind of embarrassing, how easy it was for Chris to turn him on like this.

Chris smiled, like he knew and was enjoying it. “Try on the next ones, darling,” he said, letting go. Ari exhaled and headed into the dressing room, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it.

He tried on several more things, a few of them more professional looking, a few of them more casual. Eventually, Ari agreed to a few pairs of pants, a pair of jeans, several button-downs and sweaters, and a jacket. “I can’t let you get all of these for me,” Ari said, even as he followed Chris to the register. “It’s too much.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Chris said, setting the clothes on the counter. “We’re not even finished yet. Shoes are next.”

Ari’s mouth dropped open. “Shoes?” he said stupidly, and Chris grinned at him.

They went to two more stores, one for shoes, the other for suits. “I don’t need a suit,” Ari tried to protest on the way to the second store. “Where would I even wear it?”

“Everyone needs a properly-fitting suit,” Chris said. “You’ll wear it to job interviews, networking events, cocktail parties…” He smiled as he held the door open for Ari. “How am I supposed to take you anywhere nice if you don’t have a decent suit?”

Chris selected several suits and Ari tried each of them on until they found one that they both liked. “I’m not used to wearing things like this,” Ari said as he looked at himself in the mirror, adjusting the sleeves self-consciously. “Are you sure I don’t look ridiculous?”

“You look wonderful, Ari,” Chris said. “We’ll have it altered so it fits perfectly, don’t worry.”

Ari glanced at the price tag. His eyes went wide. “Chris,” he said, “I can’t let you buy this. It’s way too expensive.”

“You can’t go cheap on suits, darling,” Chris said. “It’s a gift. I want you to have it.”

Ari stared at him desperately. “But,” he said, “it’s not fair. What am I supposed to give you in return?”

“That’s not how gifts typically work,” Chris said. “However…” He leaned in until his mouth was at Ari’s ear. “I imagine we’ll be able to think of some way you can repay me.”

Ari shivered. He swallowed hard and then said, “Okay, fine. Buy the suit.”

Chris smiled. “Good boy,” he murmured in Ari’s ear, and then stepped back, letting Ari, legs unsteady, head back into the dressing rooms.

* * *

“Have you signed up for your classes yet, darling?”

Ari didn’t register the question at first. He was leaning back against Chris’s chest and Chris was sitting up against the pillows of his bed, knees hooked beneath Ari’s, holding his legs open. His hand, wet and slick, was between Ari’s legs, stroking.

They’d been here for what felt like ages; Chris kept teasing Ari with pleasure, slowing his hand whenever Ari was getting close to orgasm, instead holding him right at that edge. It was pure torture, and Ari could barely focus on anything else. He took a moment to catch his breath and figure out, through the haze of arousal, how to answer Chris’s question.

“C-classes?” was the only thing he managed.

“Mmm.” Chris rubbed one of Ari’s nipples beneath his thumb. Ari’s back curled and he moaned, resisting the urge to rock his hips into Chris’s fist. “Term starts in about a month. I know you’ve been putting it off.”

“I—h-haven’t been—” Ari’s voice choked off into a shuddering moan when Chris tightened his hand around the head of Ari’s cock, stroking hot and tight. It was too much. Ari could barely think.

“Ari,” Chris murmured, his voice a quiet reprimand. His hand slowed again, giving Ari a moment of reprieve. “Don’t lie to me. Tell me why you’ve been putting off choosing classes.”

Ari whimpered, his chest heaving for breath. He clenched his fingers on Chris’s arms. “I…I don’t know,” he gasped.

“Hm?” Chris stroked his hand up and down, long strokes from base to tip. “Are you nervous about failing?” He pinched Ari’s nipple between two fingers, and Ari shuddered. “Or that someone will find out about the two of us?”

“M-maybe,” Ari panted, “a little of both?”

Chris hummed. He smoothed his free hand along Ari’s inner thigh, his belly, back up to roll his thumb over Ari’s nipple again. “Things will be easier this year, darling,” he said. “I’m going to take care of you. All you need to do is focus on your schoolwork while you’re living here.”

He was stroking a little harder now, and Ari couldn’t answer; his jaw went slack and he trembled, breathless, desperate, at the edge of orgasm. “Please,” Ari panted, his back arching, toes curling, “please—”

Chris’s hand slowed again. Ari sobbed, shaking, shivering. Chris’s fingers dragged soothingly through his hair. “I want you to sign up for your classes at the end of this week,” Chris said. “All right?”

Ari whined. His hips jerked on instinct, desperate for more stimulation. “Yes, sir,” he moaned.

“Good,” Chris said. He brought his hand back between Ari’s legs again, resuming the slow, agonizing pleasure.

This was nowhere near the first time they’d done this—Ari would often come to Chris’s bedroom with the expectation that Chris would fuck him, and instead Chris would subject him to this gentle, teasing stimulation.

“Professor,” Ari wailed, bucking his hips. He was so close, so, so close, and Chris was touching him so, so gently, and Ari couldn’t take it. It was too much. “Please, professor, _please_ —”

“I know, sweetheart.” Chris’s voice was low and rough, and his mouth was warm against Ari’s neck.

“I can’t,” Ari gasped, “no more, please, no more.”

“Seems we have more work to do on your patience,” Chris murmured, his mouth just beneath Ari’s ear. “All right, darling. Come whenever you’re ready.”

Ari huffed a moan of relief. Chris’s hand curled back around him, and Ari gave in, rocking his hips desperately into Chris’s hand. His body wound tighter and tighter, until finally orgasm took hold of him, wrenching a desperate cry from his throat. Chris’s fingers were in his hair, dragging gently through the strands as he stroked Ari through his climax. “Good,” he murmured, his voice in Ari’s ear. “That’s good, baby.”

Ari’s body went limp. He leaned back against Chris’s chest, shaking with the intensity of his orgasm. “You did so well, Ari,” Chris said while Ari came down. He sighed and his lips pressed against the skin beneath Ari’s ear. “I can’t get enough of you.”

Ari sighed, leaning his head back against Chris’s shoulder. “It’s stupid,” Ari murmured, “but I kept worrying you’ll…find someone else once term starts. Someone better.”

Chris lifted his head, eyebrows raised in surprise. “That’s what’s bothering you?”

Ari shrugged. “It’s possible, isn’t it? I mean, that’s what happened with me.”

“That was an unusual situation,” Chris said. “And if you hadn’t expressed interest the way you did, I never would have pursued you at all.” He smiled and rubbed his thumb along Ari’s jaw. “I’m yours as long as you want me, darling.”

Ari twisted around, kissing him, and then kissing him again, and again. “I want to suck you,” Ari said, drawing back. He’d become more confident over the past few weeks about what he wanted, and he deeply enjoyed the way Chris’s eyes darkened as a result. “Can I?”

“Of course,” Chris said, so Ari shifted, settling between Chris’s legs.

* * *

Ari picked his classes by the end of the week, just like he’d promised he would. He took on three classes and an elective—it was probably good, actually, that Chris had pushed him to sign up as soon as possible, because classes tended to fill up quickly.

“Good choices,” Chris said, when Ari showed him what he’d picked. Chris rested one hand on the dining room table and leaned in, squinting at Ari’s computer screen. “Ah. Shakespeare and Woolf, huh?”

“I’ve never read any Virginia Woolf,” Ari said. “Just Shakespeare. It might be a disaster.”

“I know the woman who teaches that course,” Chris said. “She’s fantastic. I think you’ll really like it.” He leaned back against the table, folding his arms, and arched an eyebrow. “Have you decided what you’re going to do about your job this year?”

Ari sighed. He drew one leg up, resting his foot on the edge of the chair. “Not yet,” he said. “I don’t think I should quit, but I also don’t think I can work as many hours as I was last year.”

Chris nodded. “Are you going to try and cut back on your hours?”

“Maybe. If my manager goes for it. I’ll try and ask her this week.”

Chris smiled. “Are you looking forward to a new term?” he asked.

Ari thought about it. His first year hadn’t been great, but he’d gotten good grades at the detriment of his mental health. Maybe this year he’d be able to balance things better, especially since he was in a better housing situation. “I guess,” Ari said. “I think it’ll be okay, anyway. Maybe excited isn’t the right word.” He raised his eyebrows. “Are _you_?”

Chris chuckled. “I don’t think excited is the right word for me, either,” he said. “I’ve been at this for a long time now, after all.”

Ari rested his chin on his knee. “I almost signed up for your World Literature class,” he said. He smiled impishly. “Would it have been hard for you to focus on the lecture if I was sitting there, listening?”

“Hmm,” Chris said, thoughtful. “Maybe a little. I like to think I have some measure of control, though.”

“I like a challenge,” Ari said. He stood and stepped in close, pressing himself against Chris’s chest and stretching up on his toes. Chris chuckled, kissing him back, his arm curling around Ari’s waist to hold him there.

“Listen, Ari,” Chris said, drawing back, his hand at Ari’s chin. “I was thinking, why don’t you join a club or an extracurricular this year? If you decide to cut back on your hours at the café, you’ll have more free time.”

Ari grimaced. “All of the clubs suck.”

“Join something off-campus then.” Chris tilted his head. “You didn’t make any time to socialize last year, darling. You were always too busy. I think it would be a good idea to try and find that balance this year.”

Ari huffed, rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he said. “What do you suggest?”

“Find something you’re passionate about,” Chris said. “Something outside of your major. Something outside of your comfort zone, even. I took up rock climbing my freshman year—it didn’t take, really, but I tried something new.”

“Does it have to be a sport?” Ari said, narrowing his eyes. “Because I don’t do sports.”

Chris chuckled, tightening his arm around Ari’s waist. “It doesn’t _have_ to be anything,” he said. “I just think it would be good for you, that’s all. Didn’t you say once that you did orchestra in high school? That could be fun to take back up.”

“I only did band because it looked good on college applications,” Ari said. “I never actually enjoyed it.”

Chris stroked his thumb along Ari’s jaw. “Will you play for me sometime?” he asked. “Private concert?”

Ari groaned. “Please don’t make me.”

Chris chuckled. His hand rubbed against Ari’s back. “Just give it some thought, all right?” he said. “Socializing, I mean. That’s what college is for.”

Ari sighed. “Fine,” he said.

“Mm.” Chris’s fingers curled into Ari’s hair, holding him still to kiss him. “Good.”

Ari shivered. Chris’s fingers tightened and he kissed Ari again, long and slow. Chris sighed, and his mouth traveled down Ari’s jaw, his throat. “Your hair is getting long,” Chris murmured, tugging gently at it with his fingers. “Does it bother you? It’s been a hot summer.”

“N-no,” Ari said, his voice trembling embarrassingly. “I don’t mind it.”

“Good.” Chris tugged again at Ari’s hair, harder this time, making Ari gasp. “I love your hair like this.”

Chris raised his head. His tongue slipped into Ari’s mouth and Ari sighed, moaned, leaned into Chris’s body. Chris hummed, pleased, and slipped his hands lower, beneath the edge of Ari’s shirt. Ari shivered again but pulled back, a little breathless. “Wait, I—I have t-to—” Ari blinked a couple times, attempting to clear his head. “I need to start dinner.”

Chris arched an eyebrow. “Are you trying to disobey me, darling?” he said. His hands tightened on the bare skin of Ari’s waist. “Did you forget that you belong to me?”

Ari’s stomach tightened harshly. He whimpered when Chris pulled him back into another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading as always! Let me know what you think so far <3


	5. Chapter 5

The new term crept up quickly.

All at once, Chris found himself busy with lesson plans and curriculums and scheduling and answering emails from faculty and students. It always seemed to pile on quickly, and this year was no exception. Chris considered himself to have adequate time management skills, but that initial rush at the start of a semester was always an overwhelming, exhausting, and stressful event.

When September hit, he began to travel to campus daily in order to meet with his advisees. If he was experiencing stress, it was nothing compared to his students; they arrived at his office with looks of panic and frantic questions about credits and insisting that they needed to change their schedules immediately. After so many years of teaching, Chris was an expert at pushing his own stress beneath the surface; instead he smiled reassuringly at his advisees and answered their questions calmly and then after his meetings were over, he took an aspirin for his raging headache.

An unfortunate side-effect of this sudden jump in Chris’s schedule was that he didn’t have nearly as much time for Ari. After spending so much time together all summer, it was frustrating having to prioritize work. They’d occasionally run into each other on campus, but they couldn’t touch around students and faculty anyway. Chris had anticipated this, of course; he knew that the start of the semester wouldn’t be an easy change for either of them.

The weather stayed warm, and campus crawled with people during the day. It was always strange to come back to campus after the summer and see so many people, but Chris enjoyed the early-semester rush. It was still warm out, so students sat outside in the quad on blankets and threw frisbees across the lawn and rode bikes through campus. In a few weeks, it would be cold and classes would keep people too busy to relax outside, but right now the campus was lit up with possibility.

A week into the semester, Chris finished his work a little early and reached for his phone to text Ari: _Are you finished with your afternoon lecture?_

 _Just finished_ , Ari responded. _What’s up?_

 _Come to my office, please_.

There was a knock at Chris’s door a few minutes later and Ari poked his head in. “Professor Hadley?” he said. He never used the name _Chris_ while they were both on campus, and it drove Chris a little insane. Ari’s backpack still on his shoulders and he was wearing his usual clothes, a sweatshirt with the Greenfield logo on it and a pair of jeans.

Chris smiled at him. “Come in, Ari,” he said. “How were classes?”

“Fine, I guess.” Ari closed the door behind himself and stepped over to Chris’s desk, setting his backpack down. “I’m not sure about that Shakespeare and Woolf class. You said Professor Amez was great, but I could barely look her in the eye. She’s so intense.”

Chris chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “She is pretty intense. But she takes her work seriously, and you get used to it.”

Ari rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know, Chris. The curriculum is pretty rigorous.”

“Give it another week,” Chris suggested. “There’s nothing wrong with a challenge.”

“I guess.” Ari hopped up onto the edge of Chris’s desk. “No promises, though.”

Chris smiled. He stood and stepped up closer, looking Ari up and down. “You’re still wearing your usual clothes.”

Ari glanced down at his outfit. “I was running late,” he said. “And I had a nine a.m. class, so I just threw on what I could find.” His face fell. “Is there something wrong with it? Does it look bad?”

“Hmm…” Chris stepped closer, edging between Ari’s knees. Ari’s eyes went wide with surprise and he went still when Chris’s fingertips slipped beneath the edge of his sweatshirt. “I think,” Chris murmured, leaning closer, “that these would look much better on the floor.”

Ari sighed unsteadily when Chris kissed him. He leaned into Chris’s chest, hands curling into the front of Chris’s shirt as his lips parted. He tasted like the vanilla iced coffee drinks he had almost every day.

Chris hummed, hands pressing against the bare skin of Ari’s waist. He kissed Ari again, and again, until Ari’s breathing was turning shallow. “Chris,” he panted in between kisses, “everyone is still on campus.”

“Mm,” Chris said, thoughtful, kissing his way down Ari’s jaw and throat. “I know you enjoy breaking the rules a bit, darling.” He nipped softly at Ari’s skin, enjoying the way it made him whimper. “Have you given any thought to joining a club?”

“Um…” Ari took a moment to catch his breath. “A little. I was thinking…photography, maybe. Or graphic design.”

“Good.” Chris reached up with one hand, curling his fingers into Ari’s hair, kissing him again. “You haven’t talked to your manager about cutting back your hours yet, have you?”

Ari shook his head. His legs tightened a little around Chris’s hips.

“Ari…” Chris drew back a little, gripping his fingers in Ari’s hair, holding him still. “You can’t keep putting that off.”

Ari’s throat jumped. “I’m not,” he said.

“Don’t lie to me, sweetheart.”

Ari gnawed at his lower lip. His skin was flushed and he squirmed, restless, beneath Chris’s grip. “I will,” he said, his voice still a little breathy. “I promise.”

Chris leaned in to kiss him again, long, slow. He smiled when he pulled away. “Let me pamper you a little tonight,” he said, stroking his thumb against Ari’s cheek. “Let’s go somewhere for dinner.”

Ari’s gaze lit up. “Dinner?” he said.

“Mm. Wherever you want. My treat.”

Ari grinned and stretched up to kiss him again. He hopped off the desk and grabbed his backpack.

Chris relished the entire night of having Ari to himself. They had dinner together at one of Ari’s favorite places, and then spent the rest of the night in bed. Ari drifted off afterwards, curled up beneath the sheets. Early in the summer, Ari tended to slink off to his own room during the night, but now he usually stayed in Chris’s bed. Occasionally he would curl, warm, against Chris’s chest during the night. Chris always wondered whether or not it was intentional.

* * *

“Are you sure this is still a good idea?” Ari asked.

Chris looked up. He was cooking dinner for himself and Ari on a Sunday evening, and Ari was doing work at the kitchen counter, his laptop and notebooks and readings spread out in front of him. “Is what a good idea?” Chris asked.

“I know I keep bringing this up,” Ari said, “but you could still lose your job if someone finds out you’re banging your student. It didn’t really bother me over the summer, but now that school has started it feels more…real, I guess.”

“Hmm,” Chris said, half in agreement. He tapped the edge of his wooden spoon against the rim of the pan on the stove. “I know what you mean, but I’m not particularly worried.”

“You’re not?” Ari said.

Chris smiled. “Well, you’re not technically my student anymore, Ari. And you’re an adult—you turn twenty in a couple of months. Maybe it’s not the most morally reputable thing in the world, but we should be fine as long as we keep it to ourselves.”

“I guess,” Ari said.

Chris’s smile widened. “I think you enjoy the danger a little, secretly,” he teased. “You like the possibility that someone will find out, and that we’ll be caught. You like how forbidden and illicit our relationship is.”

Ari’s face went a little red. “What?” he said. “No, that’s not it at all.”

“Oh, isn’t it?” Chris raised an eyebrow at him. “If that wasn’t at least a little part of it, would you have still made a move on me last year?”

“I was drunk,” Ari protested.

“Sure, but you still did it.”

Ari huffed and turned his gaze back to his computer screen. “I’ve never been attracted to the right people,” he said.

Chris raised his eyebrows, curious. He turned off the stove and spooned some soup into two bowls, carrying one over to the table. “What do you mean?” he asked, setting the bowl by Ari’s elbow, a spoon next to it.

Ari smiled his thanks briefly. He picked up the spoon, but didn’t eat, twirling it around his fingers. “I’ve always liked people who are in a position of power over me,” he said. “Or people who are older than me. It figures I’d be into you.”

Chris chuckled. He sat across from Ari with his own bowl. “I can’t say I’m complaining,” he said. He stirred his food. “How’s the essay coming?”

“Fine, I guess,” Ari said. He still hadn’t touched his food, his gaze fixed, frustrated, on his computer screen.

“What class is this for?” Chris asked.

“That Historical Research and Debate class,” Ari said. “I like it, I just don’t think I’m doing any of this right.”

Chris nodded, chewing slowly. The first couple weeks of terms were always a bit of a slog as students settled into new classes. “You know if you need help, you just need to ask,” he said.

“I know. Thanks.”

“You can’t work yourself into exhaustion, darling,” Chris continued. “If you throw yourself too hard into your classes, you’ll burn out by midterms. Relax. You have time.”

Ari exhaled. He closed his laptop, and reached for his food. “You’re right,” he said. “I know.” He smiled weakly. “Balance, right?”

Chris returned the smile. “Exactly,” he said.

* * *

“I’m sick of this class,” Ari said.

Landon glanced up at him, raising his eyebrows. The two of them were sitting at a table in the library, working on their course work. Landon’s girlfriend and roommates were also at the table, talking more than they were working. Landon had invited Ari to study with them, and since the beginning of the term they’d created a makeshift study group together. Ari had to admit it was pretty nice—he liked having a regular friend group to study with.

“Which class?” Landon asked.

“The Shakespeare and Woolf one,” Ari said. “I’ve really tried to like Virginia Woolf, but it’s not my thing at all. And I don’t understand all of the comparisons Professor Amez keeps drawing between the Woolf novels and the Shakespeare plays. They’re completely different texts, from completely different times. It’s all bullshit.”

“Damn,” Landon said. “Why didn’t you just drop the class, then?”

Ari opened his mouth to answer, and then closed it again. The truth was that he’d only stuck with it because of Chris, who kept insisting he would regret it. Ari might have dropped the damn class anyway, but he needed the credits and he kept hoping that Chris would be right.

Now that they were deep into September, it was too late to drop the class, and if he decided to quit, it would show up on his permanent record.

“Uh,” Ari said, “I don’t know.” It sounded lame, but he couldn’t exactly tell his new friends about his living situation, or how it corresponded with his sex life. Nobody knew about his relationship with Professor Hadley, and now that school was back in session it was growing more difficult to keep it a secret. It seemed like every other time Ari spoke he was in danger of accidentally letting his secret slip.

“It’s not going to do you any good if you get a shitty grade in the class,” Landon pointed out. “Isn’t it better to just back out, rather than risk an F?”

“Either way it sucks,” Ari said. “I should have only taken three classes this semester. I don’t know what I was thinking trying to do four classes on top of work, and this new photography club, too.”

He did like the photography club. He was learning to use photoshop and even a little about graphic design, and he’d met a lot of cool people through the club meetings. But it was taking up a few hours every Friday and some time over the weekend, too.

Moreover, he hadn’t cut down on his hours at the café yet like he’d promised Chris he would. The idea of losing even part of his income was frightening, like he was giving up a safety net. If this thing with Chris imploded, all he’d have to fall back on was his savings.

Ari groaned and raked his fingers through his hair. “I don’t have a single idea for this fucking essay,” he said. “Whatever I write isn’t going to be any good.”

Landon shrugged. “Forget the essay, then,” he said. He closed his computer. “There’s a football game tonight. We can all get shitfaced and go together, and you can get back to the essay afterwards.”

“I can’t,” Ari said. “It’s due Monday, and I have work tomorrow. I can’t do the whole thing tomorrow night, especially not if I’m hungover.”

Landon tapped his pen against his notebook. “Okay,” he said. “Then, well, you know…fake it.”

“Fake it?” Ari said blankly.

Landon arched an eyebrow at him. “What, you’ve never forged an essay before?” he said. “It’s easy as hell. I’ll show you.”

“Whoa, no way,” Ari said. “I’m not doing that. Professor Amez terrifies me, can you imagine if she found out I plagiarized a whole paper?”

“Not the whole thing. Just enough of it that you’ll only have to do half the work.” He smirked. “Or you can spend all night writing an essay for a class you don’t give a shit about, and miss out on hanging out with your friends on a Saturday night.”

Ari glared at him. “You’re insane,” he said.

Landon grinned. “That’s what everyone tells me,” he said. He stood and stepped around the table, scooting his chair up next to Ari’s. “I’ll just show you how, and you can decide what you want to do later. Cool?”

Ari huffed. He hesitated, and then turned his computer so the screen was facing Landon. “Fine. Just show me. I’m not saying I’ll do it.”

Landon’s eyes gleamed, and he reached for the keyboard. “All right. Let’s make some magic.”

* * *

Professor Amez was known for how fast she graded papers. Two days after Ari turned in his paper, she was handing them back. There were no marks on Ari’s paper, not even a grade. Just a sentence scrawled at the top in bright red: _see me after class_.

Landon’s help had given Ari the bare bones of an essay, with clear points and arguments. Ari had gone back and forth on the idea of forgery for nearly an hour, but ultimately his exhaustion had won out. He’d come back from the football game tipsy off two shots of vodka, his voice sore from yelling with his friends. After a work shift the next day, he’d been half-dead and in no shape to write an entire essay.

Ari’s legs dragged, heavy, beneath him as he approached Professor Amez’s desk after the lecture was over. Her gaze turned hard as he approached, and Ari desperately wanted to spin around and run in the other direction. “You wanted to talk to me, professor?” Ari said.

Professor Amez folded her arms. She was barely five-three, but she gave the appearance of being tall, and Ari felt like she was towering over him. Maybe it was the heels she wore, or the sharp line of her skirt, or the pin-straight hair, or something about her posture.

“Ari,” she said, “you’ve been on top of the readings since the first day of class. Why did you feel the need to plagiarize your paper?”

Ari opened his mouth, closed it again. He had no excuse prepared. “I’m sorry,” he finally managed, lowering his gaze to the floor.

Professor Amez sighed. “I’m going to have to report this to the administration, Ari,” she said. “You should expect an official warning sometime soon. We don’t tolerate this kind of thing here.”

“I know.”

“And I expect you to rewrite this essay by next week,” Professor Amez continued. “If you write something good, I’ll consider giving you credit for it.”

“Okay.” It was probably better than Ari deserved. “Thank you.”

Professor Amez nodded. “Next time,” she said, “if you’re struggling with the material, tell me and I’ll help you. There’s even a TA for this class, too—the whole reason she’s here is to help.”

Ari nodded, and stayed silent. He was worried anything he said would just make the situation worse.

“Right,” Professor Amez said, turning away. “Have a good afternoon, Ari.”

Ari slinked away, resisting the urge to sprint, flat-out, towards the exit of the lecture hall.

* * *

“I’m sorry, man. I didn’t think Amez would see through the paper that easily.”

Ari glanced in Landon’s direction. The two of them were sitting in Landon’s apartment in his living room. Loud music was blasting from the kitchen, where Landon’s girlfriend and one of their roommates were cooking something that smelled like burning garlic. Landon had invited Ari to dinner, but Ari was suddenly glad at his lack of appetite.

Instead, Ari was on his third drink. He’d never been so glad for Landon’s consistent supply of beer and wine. Ari’s mind was pleasantly fuzzy and his body was comfortably warm. He wanted to drink until the hot tug of shame melted from his throat and disappeared into his stomach.

“It’s not your fault,” Ari said. “You were trying to help. I shouldn’t have agreed to it.”

“I’m still the one who brought it up,” Landon said.

Ari shrugged. “Even if I hadn’t agreed, my essay would have been garbage. I’d given up on that class before you even brought up the idea of plagiarizing.”

Ari lingered at Landon’s place until after midnight. He took a cab home and staggered, dizzy, into the house, barely remembering to lock the door behind him. He stumbled upstairs in the dark and the floor creaked loudly beneath him. He hoped it was too late for Chris to be awake, but he’d barely reached the door to his room when a voice came from the other end of the hall: “Ari.”

Ari paused, turning back. Chris was standing in the doorway of his bedroom, arms folded. He was dressed in a robe, but his gaze was alert. Ari swayed, bracing his hand against the wall of the hallway. “Hi,” he said.

“It’s late,” Chris said. “Ari, are you drunk?”

“I was at a party,” Ari said. “You told me to socialize, so I was socializing.”

Chris’s eyes narrowed. “Did I also tell you to cheat on your schoolwork?”

Ari’s swayed again, and nearly tipped forward. “Who told you?” he said, his voice a little hoarse.

“Professor Amez,” Chris said. “She told me your last essay was completely plagiarized.”

Ari blinked. “Oh,” he said.

“Well?” Chris said. “Is it true?”

Ari winced at how sharp Chris’s voice was. “I’m sorry,” Ari mumbled. “I panicked. I didn’t know what to do.”

Chris sighed in exasperation and reached up, rubbing his forehead. “Oh, Ari,” he said. “What were you thinking? You know better than that.”

“I don’t, though,” Ari said. “I’m not good at this. I’ve never been any good at this.”

“Don’t say that about yourself,” Chris said. He came closer, glaring. “I won’t let you give up on everything just because you think you’re not capable.”

“I’m _not_ capable,” Ari snapped; he couldn’t help himself. “Nobody thought I could get into college in the first place. Maybe they were right.”

“Ari—”

Ari turned away, heading for his room. “I’m going to bed,” he mumbled, disappearing into his bedroom and closing the door behind him. He threw himself, facedown, into his mattress, and passed out almost immediately.

* * *

Chris was already gone by the time Ari woke up the next morning.

Ari’s head throbbed as he showered. He dragged himself to campus but he couldn’t focus during his classes; guilt stuck in the back of his throat, growing and growing throughout the day. He felt like he’d ruined everything.

He knew he needed to talk to Chris, but he lingered on campus as long as possible, finishing homework and reading and even getting dinner at the dining hall. It was past seven by the time he got back to Chris’s house, and dark outside. Ari found Chris in the living room, reading through essays.

Chris glanced up when Ari stepped into the room. His face was expressionless, “How were classes?” Chris asked, returning his gaze to the essays. He twirled his red pen around his fingers.

Ari swallowed. The guilt tightened, hot, in his throat. “I’m sorry,” he blurted.

Chris glanced up, raising his eyebrows. He seemed a little surprised.

“I’m sorry for everything,” Ari said. “For…for cheating on the paper, and…and for yelling at you about it.”

Chris closed his folder, setting it aside, and placed his pen on top of it. “I understand why you did it,” he said. “But if you were struggling, all you had to do was say something.”

Ari shook his head. “It wasn’t that I was struggling,” he said. “I mean, I guess it was a little bit that. But mostly I just…I gave up for a second. I don’t know how to balance any of this stuff, and I was making excuses for it.” He lowered his gaze to the floor. “You’ve been so good to me, letting me stay here—and I repaid you by completely giving up. I feel like an asshole.”

Chris pushed himself up. “Ari,” he murmured, reaching for Ari’s face. “Listen. I want you to cut back on your hours at the café, all right?”

Ari sighed. He nodded.

Chris stroked Ari’s cheeks with his thumbs. “You’re so capable, Ari. I know you are. Never let yourself think you aren’t.”

Ari’s throat jumped. “Thanks,” he whispered.

Chris drew him into his arms. Ari sighed in relief, leaning into Chris’s chest, closing his eyes. They stood there together for a few moments, gripping at one another. “Does this mean you forgive me?” Ari asked.

“Hmm,” Chris said. His fingers threaded into the hair at the nape of Ari’s neck, and then his mouth was at Ari’s ear, breath warm. “No, not yet. You cheated, darling. You know I need to punish you.”

Ari tensed in surprise, mouth falling open. Chris’s mouth was at his throat now. “W-what are you going to do?” Ari asked, his voice thin and breathy.

“You’ll see. Come with me.” Chris drew back and rested a hand at the small of Ari’s back, leading him upstairs into Chris’s bedroom. Chris closed the door behind them and Ari hesitated in the middle of the room, fidgeting. “Undress, Ari,” Chris said. “And lie on the bed, please. I need to grab a couple things.”

Ari did as he was told, tugging off his t-shirt and his jeans, stepping out of them. He shimmied out of his briefs and then slid onto the bed, sitting at the center of the mattress, watching Chris rummage in his closet for something. Ari heard the clink of metal against metal and his stomach tightened.

Chris finally straightened, approaching the bed. He had some leather cuffs in his hand and another, smaller object in his other hand. “Lie back,” Chris said. He brushed his fingers along Ari’s inner thigh. “Open.”

Ari shivered and stretched out on his back. Chris spent a moment just looking him up and down, fingers tracing circles on the skin of Ari’s thighs. Then he reached for a bottle of lubricant, squeezing some onto his fingers. “Hold still,” Chris said, bringing his fingers to Ari’s entrance.

Chris fingered him open, long and deep until Ari was hard and trembling and struggling to stay still. Chris removed his fingers, then, leaving Ari panting, and reached over to clean his hands on a cloth. Chris reached, then, for the leather cuffs, and Ari’s stomach jumped.

Chris clipped the cuffs in place, using them to secure Ari’s wrists to his ankles. Then he reached for the other, mysterious object Ari hadn’t seen very well. When Ari saw what it was, he whimpered and tensed, the cuffs tinkling gently as he tugged at them.

“Just relax, darling,” Chris said. He slicked the plug and pressed it to Ari’s entrance, sliding it gently into him until it was deep inside his body. Ari craned his neck, struggling to see what Chris was doing. The plug wasn’t large; there was a slight pressure, nothing more.

Ari was about to ask what Chris was going to do, but then Chris raised his hand, and Ari realized he was holding a— _oh_ —

Ari gasped in surprise when the plug vibrated to life inside him. It was deep enough that it was just barely stimulating his sweet spot, not enough for any real satisfaction, just enough to drive Ari absolutely insane. Chris watched him squirm and folded his arms, and Ari realized how much of a punishment this really would be.

“P-professor,” Ari protested, but Chris just turned up the vibration a little and Ari cried out. He bucked his hips, but there was no way for him to get any stimulation.

“You’re going to stay just like that until you’ve learned your lesson, darling,” Chris said. “If you complain, I’ll only make you wait longer.”

It became unbearable very, very quickly. Chris sat on the loveseat by the windows with a book, and adjusted the vibration occasionally, but otherwise didn’t so much as touch Ari once. Ari’s body trembled from the gentle stimulation and he dug his toes into the sheets, tried desperately to rock his hips down and get the plug just a little deeper where he needed it, but it was pointless.

“Please,” Ari moaned. He was panting, shaking with pleasure, his nails digging into his palms. “Please, professor, please.”

Chris just gazed at him, tapping his fingers against his book. “You can’t come like that, can you?” he said.

Ari shook his head desperately. He tugged at the cuffs, but they just clinked musically. Ari pressed his head back into the mattress, hips jerking again, and again. Chris stayed where he was, watching Ari grow more and more desperate. He had endless self-control.

Chris kept him there until Ari was so desperate he was crying out. Then there were Chris’s hands, stroking back Ari’s hair, fingertips brushing up and down Ari’s thighs. “Ari,” Chris murmured. “Tell me why I’m punishing you.”

Ari moaned. Chris’s fingertips were brushing right next to the place Ari really wanted them. “I cheated,” Ari gasped. “I was ungrateful. I’m s-sorry.”

“Are you really sorry?” Chris reached between Ari’s legs, fingers still teasing. “Do you promise not to do it again?”

“I promise,” Ari wailed. “I promise, professor, I promise.”

“Good.” Chris’s hand curled around Ari’s cock. One stroke, two, and Ari’s body was seizing, spilling. His chest heaved and he moaned, rocked his hips down into Chris’s hand. Chris smiled and kept stroking him, firm. “A little more, baby—that’s right.”

Ari huffed a moan, his body overstimulated and wracked with pleasure. Chris had turned off the toy; he slid it free of Ari’s body and then reached for the cuffs, undoing them carefully. It was a relief for Ari to let his legs stretch out. They felt stiff from how long he’d been in that position.

Chris settled at the edge of the mattress. His fingers stroked through Ari’s hair. “You did very well, darling,” he said softly.

Ari sighed. He leaned into Chris’s touch, closing his eyes briefly. “I really am sorry,” he murmured.

“I know, sweetheart.” Chris took hold of Ari’s hand, kissed his palm. “It’s all right. You’re forgiven.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for reading so far! Let me know what you think <3


	6. Chapter 6

Ari woke to the smell of toasting bread and bacon.

He raised his head, blinking in soft morning light. He was still curled up in Chris’s bed. It was Saturday, he realized. No classes today. No work, either.

He stretched his legs beneath the bed, sighed. Part of him wanted to stay there forever, hiding from his problems, but his stomach was growling at the smell of bacon. Instead he slid his legs out of bed, stretching out his arms.

He grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt from his room and then headed downstairs. Chris was standing at the stove, over a pan full of frying eggs. Ari’s stomach growled appreciatively and Chris turned to look at him, as though he’d heard. He smiled. “Good morning,” he said. “Are you hungry? Breakfast is almost ready.”

“You made breakfast?” Ari said.

“I thought you could use it after the week you’ve had,” Chris said.

Ari stepped closer. The tile was cool against his bare feet. “That was my own fault,” he said.

Chris turned off the stove. He turned and approached Ari across the kitchen, reaching for his face. “Darling,” he said, “you can’t beat yourself up forever.”

Ari sighed, leaning into Chris’s hands. “I still feel guilty.”

“You shouldn’t. You made a mistake, and everyone makes mistakes.” Chris tilted his head, his gaze curious. “You never actually told me what happened. Why you decided to do what you did, I mean.”

“No, I guess not.” Ari glanced over Chris’s shoulder at the stove. “Can we eat? Then I’ll talk.”

They sat across from one another at the dining room table with plates of eggs and toast and bacon and mugs of coffee. Everything was delicious; after he’d eaten, Ari finally felt fortified enough to explain. “I was behind on my essay, and I was with a study group,” Ari said. He didn’t mention Landon’s name—he didn’t want to get Landon in trouble, dragging him down too. “And one of them suggested I come to the football game that night, and I wanted to go, but then I knew I wouldn’t have time to finish the essay. I had work all day the next day, and I had tons of other homework to do. I was too behind to finish an entire essay.” Ari ran his thumb along the edge of his coffee cup, folding his legs on top of his chair. “My friend told me he could help me forge an essay—well, part of an essay, not the whole thing. He promised me nobody would be able to tell.”

Chris listened, expressionless. He sipped his coffee.

“I wasn’t going to use it,” Ari said, “I was going to skip the game and write my own essay. But I spent my entire freshman year without socializing, and I didn’t want to miss out anymore. So I went to the game, and the next day I thought I’d pull an all-nighter and finish the essay, but I—I was just so _exhausted_ —” He paused, swallowed hard. His voice was too tight, and he didn’t want Chris pitying him. “I’ve never liked that class, so I figured…just once…”

Chris nodded. “I understand, Ari,” he said. “I know how hard you’ve worked. Not just this year, but last year, too.” He gazed out the window thoughtfully. “I’ve made mistakes of my own, you know. Especially when I was younger.”

Ari blinked. He leaned forward, curious.

Chris tapped his fingers against the table. He continued, “I was expelled from more than six schools, actually, since I was thirteen years old. Two middle schools, three high schools, and a university. I didn’t care about getting an education. I didn’t care about anything at all, actually. I got into as much trouble as possible when I was a teenager and drank way too much with my friends, and I went into college with that same attitude. I almost dropped out entirely, and if I had I never would have had”—he gestured vaguely to his home—“any of this.”

“So, what happened?” Ari asked.

“Well,” Chris said, “My mother got very sick. And I realized that everything—my education, my family, my future—it was bigger than just me. I saw life differently. And every day I regret that it took so much for me to change my attitude.” He smiled. “My mother recovered, and I made an effort to spend more time with my family. I finished college and went onto grad school. I took charge of my own life and found my passion.” He crossed his legs, leaning back in his chair. “My point is, if you don’t own up to yourself, you’ll regret it.”

“How did you know that you wanted to be a professor?” Ari asked. “When did you figure it out?”

Chris shrugged. “There wasn’t a specific moment,” he said. “In fact, I worked quite a few jobs before I decided to teach, and I changed my major twice. I worked in a restaurant all through college, and then I worked in publishing for a while. I love teaching, but I’m still figuring out what I’m really passionate about. I’ll probably be figuring it out my whole life.”

Ari nodded. That was comforting, somehow.

“Ari…” Chris reached over, resting his hand on Ari’s leg. “I’m sorry. I know I was hard on you when I found out about your essay. I’m just trying to say that I understand.”

Ari smiled at him, relieved. He set aside his coffee cup and Chris tugged Ari into his lap, kissing him, his hand stroking over Ari’s back.

* * *

Just as finals were beginning to loom, Chris got a call from his sister, asking about his plans for Thanksgiving break. Chris had been planning to stay home for Thanksgiving, but then his sister told him about her recent engagement. Everyone was going to be at Chris’s parents’ house to celebrate her and her fiancé.

Chris wanted to bring Ari with him, but he didn’t need to explain their relationship to his entire family.

“How long are you going to be gone?” Ari asked while he and Chris cooked dinner.

“Not long,” Chris said. “Almost a week.” He smiled in Ari’s direction. “I’m sorry, I know you were expecting we’d spend Thanksgiving together.”

Ari shrugged. “I’ve never really cared about Thanksgiving in general,” he said. “We’ve just spent so much time together the past few months, it’ll be weird to be in this enormous house all alone. Plus, now that I’ve cut down on my hours at the café I’ll have nothing to do.” He’d dropped down to fifteen hours a week, which was much more manageable.

“You’ll find a way to pass the time,” Chris said. “Besides, you’ll be busy preparing for finals.”

Ari grimaced. “That doesn’t make me feel much better.”

Chris chuckled. “I know,” he said. “But you’ve been making really good progress this year. If you really put your mind to it, I bet you could finish both your final papers during break.”

“I could,” Ari said. “But I probably won’t.” He opened the oven, and sniffed appreciatively. The smell of rosemary and garlic had filled the entire kitchen. “I’m going to miss your cooking, too. I spent way too much money on Dominos before I started living with you.”

“You’re a pretty good cook yourself, Ari,” Chris said.

“Only because you’ve taught me all this stuff,” Ari said.

“Don’t sell yourself short.” Chris reached over and slipped his arm around Ari’s shoulders, kissing his hair. “You’re a quick learner, darling.” He stroked his fingers through Ari’s hair gently. “We should study for your psychology class tonight.”

Ari groaned. He leaned into Chris’s shoulder. “Do we have to?”

“Baby…” Chris pressed his lips against Ari’s throat. “You can’t avoid it forever.”

“I can try.” Ari twisted around and pressed against Chris’s chest. “Maybe there’s something more fun we can do together.”

He stretched up on his toes until their lips met. Chris chuckled, his fingers curling into Ari’s hair. “That’s not going to work, sweetheart,” Chris said, pushing him gently back. “I’m not quite that easily distracted.”

Ari scowled at him. “It works sometimes,” he said.

“I’m a professor first and foremost,” Chris said, but he stroked his fingers through Ari’s hair and leaned in to kiss him just beneath his earlobe. “Are you going to study for finals while I’m done, darling?”

Ari’s throat jumped, and he nodded jerkily.

“Do you promise?” Chris tightened his fingers in Ari’s hair, trailing his nose along Ari’s throat and breathing in the scent of coffee. “If I come back and you’ve been disobedient, you know what will happen.”

A shiver rippled through Ari’s body. “I promise,” he said, his voice breathy.

“Good boy.” Chris pressed one last kiss against Ari’s jaw and then let go of him, heading towards the oven.

* * *

Thanksgiving break didn’t bring relief. Partially because Ari had a million things to do to prepare for finals, and partially because Chris left the Monday before break.

“I’ll be back this weekend, darling,” he said in the front hall of his house Monday afternoon. His hands cradled Ari’s face, and he smiled. “Call me if you need anything.”

Ari nodded. He didn’t want to admit how much he wanted Chris to stay—and not just because of the sex, but because Ari didn’t want to spend the entire week alone. “I will,” Ari said. “Drive safe.”

Chris tilted Ari’s face up, kissed him. His mouth lingered against Ari’s and Ari pressed closer, winding his arms around Chris’s waist. Chris exhaled, drew back. His jaw was tight. “Damn it,” he muttered. “I have to go.”

He released Ari reluctantly and reached for his bags, heading out the door. Ari rested his forehead against the wood and sighed, closing his eyes.

He spent most of the weekend doing homework and studying. Chris had helped him immensely with his essays and Ari was growing more and more confident with them, but two final exams still loomed over him and he had no idea how to approach them. He went over his notes and flipped through his texts, but the information seemed to melt out of his brain as soon as he tried to absorb it.

Fortunately, when he wasn’t studying, Chris’s house was beautiful and offered other distractions. Ari cooked in the well-stocked kitchen and relaxed on the back porch with one of the many books from the library. He took advantage of Chris’s enormous bathtub, the one complete with massage jets and essential oils. When he emerged from the bath, two nights after Chris left, he felt like a new person.

Instead of heading to his own bedroom, afterwards, he headed to Chris’s, and sprawled on top of the mattress in just a towel. The bed seemed much larger than usual when it was just him in it; the covers were made up meticulously, but they still smelled like Chris. Ari buried his face in them, closing his eyes.

He rolled onto his back and sighed. Two days wasn’t very long, and he already missed Chris’s hands and his voice and the way he’d torment Ari’s body with pleasure here in this bed. Ari shuddered at the memory. Sometimes it felt like Chris had flipped some kind of switch in him. Like Ari was aware of his own body in a way he hadn’t ever been before.

Ari reached for the edge of the towel, undoing it and pushing it aside. He wrapped one hand around his cock and stroked, but his hands weren’t as big as Chris’s and it wasn’t what he wanted, not exactly.

He kept going anyway, closing his eyes against the room’s gentle lamp light, reaching between his legs with both hands. Barely two days ago Chris had put him in this exact same position and his head had been between Ari’s thighs, his tongue stroking teasing lines along the underside of his cock until Ari had been shaking. _Be patient now, Ari_ , Chris had said, raising his head, his eyes dark. _You’ll come when I decide you’ve earned it_.

Ari cried out, and his back bowed off the bed. He yanked his hands away from his cock and buried his fingers in the sheets as he fought the need for orgasm. “ _Chris_ ,” he moaned.

Something buzzed on the bedside table, then, and he jumped in surprise. It was his phone, humming against the surface of the bedside table, where he’d left it this afternoon. Chris’s name was lit up on the screen with the words _How are you doing?_ underneath it.

Ari reached for the phone with a shaking hand. He unlocked it and opened Chris’s text, but instead of texting back he pressed the tiny green “call” button.

Chris answered on the first ring. “Darling?” he said. “Are you all right?”

Ari sighed in relief. It was late, and Chris’s voice was low—Ari expected he was about to turn in for the night. “I’m fine,” Ari answered. His voice was still a bit breathless. “I just wanted to hear your voice. I miss you.”

Chris chuckled. “I miss you too, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I’ll be back in a few days.”

“Too long,” Ari said. He curled his hand back around his cock, stroking more slowly than before. He closed his eyes with pleasure. “Can’t I convince you to come back sooner?”

“Probably not,” Chris said. “But there’s plenty to do while I’m gone. Have you been studying?”

“Yes,” Ari breathed. He tightened his head around the head of his cock, and his toes dug into the mattress. “I’ve been good.”

Chris was silent for a few beats. “Are you touching yourself, darling?” he asked.

Ari just moaned, but that seemed to be the only answer Chris needed. He hummed, and his voice was lower when he spoke again. “Is that why you called? You need me to help you come?”

Ari’s breathing was heavy, and it took him a moment to answer. “I miss you,” he moaned.

“I know, baby.” Chris exhaled. “What I would give to see you right now. Are you playing with yourself nice and slow?”

Ari nodded. “Yes,” he said, when he realized Chris couldn’t see. “Just like you taught me.”

“Mmm. Good boy.” There was the sound of creaking bedsprings. “I want you to get yourself very close, Ari. Stroke until you’re about to come, and hold yourself there. Can you do that for me, baby?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Ari moaned. He gripped his phone with his free hand and used the other to stroke hot and fast, until he was clinging to the edge with his fingernails, his whole body trembling with the need for release.

“Are you there?” Chris asked. “Talk to me, Ari.”

“I’m there,” Ari choked. “I’m there, I’m there, _oh_ —” His hips bucked desperately. He needed just a little more, just a little.

“My poor baby,” Chris murmured. His voice was rough. “You’ve been so pent up these past few days, nobody there to touch you and take care of you and make you feel good. And that orgasm is right at the tip of your fingers, isn’t it?”

Ari gasped for breath. His fingers trembled against the head of his cock and he twitched with desperation. “ _Professor_.”

“Mmm. When I get back, we’re going to see just how good you can feel, Ari.” Chris sighed in satisfaction. “Make yourself come, darling.”

Ari cried out in relief and stroked himself, hard. His back arched and his phone nearly slipped from his grip as he spilled, pulsing again and again until his belly was sticky. “Professor,” he moaned. “Oh _fuck_ , Chris.”

“Good,” Chris breathed on the other end of the line. “That’s my good boy, Ari. _Fuck_ , I miss you.”

Ari took a brief second to catch his breath. “You do?” he asked.

“Sweetheart, of course I do. Even a few days feels too long.” Chris sighed. “I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

Ari’s exhaled. He closed his eyes. “Okay,” he said, voice breathy.

Chris chuckled. “Stay busy, darling,” he said. “I’ll see you on Sunday.”

* * *

Chris wasn’t back Sunday. He stayed upstate for a few extra days instead, lingering there for nearly the entire week. “I’m sorry, Ari,” he said on the phone. “I know it’s getting close to finals. I wouldn’t have decided to stay if I didn’t think it was the right choice.”

“I understand,” Ari said. “Your sister needs you.”

Chris sighed. “Believe me, I’d much rather be spending time with you than dealing with family drama. But I’ll be back in a few days, I promise.”

By Thursday, Ari was growing worried about finals, and fidgety from a week of being alone in Chris’s huge house. He tried to spend more time on campus and focused on finishing up his essays.

“You worry too much,” Landon said Thursday evening as the two of them packed up their things after class. “You’re a good writer, man. Stop doubting yourself so much.”

Ari couldn’t help laughing—that was the exact same thing Chris kept telling him, and for whatever reason Ari still didn’t believe it. “I guess,” he said. “But I need to get decent grades if I want to keep my scholarship.”

“Scholarship?”

“Merit,” Ari said. “It’s only a little, but everything helps when you’re dirt broke.”

He headed home, planning to edit his essays a little more and then study for his exams, but his plans changed when he stepped inside and smelled cooking garlic. His heart leapt and he tossed aside his backpack, kicking off his shoes impatiently. He followed the smell into the kitchen, where Chris was standing over the stove, stirring something in a pan. “Chris?” Ari said breathlessly.

Chris turned to look at him. He flipped off the stove and then he was crossing the kitchen, reaching out to pull Ari to him.

Ari shuddered as their mouths pressed together. Chris’s hands slipped into his hair and he tilted Ari’s head back to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding against Ari’s. Ari whimpered and leaned eagerly into Chris’s chest, his body already going hot.

Chris groaned and kissed him again, his mouth firm. His hands left Ari’s hair and moved lower, his arm slipping around Ari’s waist to press their bodies together, his other hand squeezing Ari’s backside. “Mmm,” he sighed, his lips traveling down Ari’s jaw and his throat. “ _Fuck_ , I missed you, baby.”

Ari’s eyes went half-lidded with pleasure and he rocked his hips eagerly against Chris’s. “Chris,” he panted.

“I’m taking you upstairs. Dinner can wait.” Chris gripped suddenly and then he was lifting Ari into his arms, Ari’s legs cradling his waist.

Ari’s back hit the mattress of Chris’s bed and he barely had time to breathe before Chris was kissing him again. Deft fingers went to the buttons on Ari’s clothes, working them off. “I had so many plans for you tonight,” Chris mumbled, tugging open the button on Ari’s jeans. “I was going to tie you up so you couldn’t move, edge you until you were so desperate you were sobbing my name.” He tugged off Ari’s jeans and his boxer briefs with them, and then slid down the bed, pressing kisses to Ari’s thighs. “I was going to spank you raw if you tried to protest. Keep you tied up while I fucked you.”

Ari moaned raggedly. His body was shaking and he was already so hard he was dripping; Chris’s lips teased at Ari’s length and Ari cried out just with that gentle touch. Chris’s hands held him still, thumbs stroking back and forth against the skin of Ari’s thighs.

“Mmm,” Chris sighed. His tongue drew a gentle line up Ari’s cock and Ari’s body convulsed. Chris smiled. “Did you play with yourself while I was gone?”

Ari shook his head desperately. “Just…t-that one t-time.” Chris teased him again, his lips closing, warm and wet, around the head of Ari’s cock. Ari moaned and his hips jerked in protest when Chris pulled back again. “Chris, _please_.”

“Oh, I think you _do_ need to be tied up, don’t you?” Chris said. “Are you going to be a good boy and hold still?”

Ari whimpered. He raised his head, watching as Chris sucked him, slow and thorough, his tongue like magic against Ari’s sensitive skin. Ari’s breathing turned to sharp, desperate pants and every stroke of Chris’s tongue sent a bolt of pleasure right up his spine. It was unbearable.

Chris drew him deeper, and Ari cried out, his back curling off the mattress. Chris chuckled and he reached up, rubbing at one of Ari’s nipples with his thumb. “Chris,” Ari moaned, “please, _please_ , fuck me, please—”

Chris groaned harshly. He pulled back. “ _Fuck_ , Ari,” he muttered.

He fingered Ari open long and slow, and waited until Ari was begging and on the edge of coming before finally pushing into him. It hurt a little—it had been a little while since they’d done this, after all—but Ari didn’t care. Once the pain was gone, it was only a few thrusts of Chris’s hips and Ari was shuddering into climax, the force of it taking him by surprise.

Chris laughed, low and throaty, at Ari’s ear. “We have more work to do on your restraint than I thought,” he said.

Ari rocked his hips down, still struggling to catch his breath. “More,” he panted, “more, more.”

Chris let Ari climb on top of him and take what he wanted, resting his hands at Ari’s waist to steady him, stroking him in time with his movements. Afterwards Ari collapsed on him, dizzy from his second orgasm, sweaty and out of breath. Chris hummed, pleased, and kissed the top of his head, dragging gentle fingers through Ari’s hair.

“Sorry,” Chris murmured. “I should have worn a condom. I suppose I got a little enthusiastic.”

Ari shifted and realized how sticky he felt. He hadn’t even noticed at the time. “S’okay,” he said. “I don’t mind.”

Chris kissed him softly. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, sitting up. “Then dinner. Sound good?”

Ari beamed. “That sounds perfect,” he said.

Over dinner, Chris talked about his week and provided some insight into what had kept him away so long. “It seemed like the engagement was going to be off at first,” he said. He swirled his wine glass, gazing down at the remaining liquid. “My sister was so upset. We’re lucky we were able to smooth everything over.”

“So, she’s still getting married?” Ari asked.

Chris nodded. He sighed. “I’m glad I could be there for her while she was going through this,” he said, “but I do feel like I lost a good few days, which is especially frustrating during finals week. I could have used that time to be teaching, or I could have spent that time with you.”

Ari smiled. “I’m sure your students survived,” he said. “And so did I.”

“Oh, did you?” Chris set aside his wine glass. He pulled Ari into his lap, his hand smoothing along Ari’s lower back. “Is that why you were begging me to fuck you less than an hour ago?”

Ari blushed, but rested his arms around Chris’s shoulders. “Sexual frustration doesn’t count.”

Chris chuckled. He pulled Ari down into a kiss.

* * *

Ari woke up the next morning in Chris’s bed. He rolled over and sighed, stretching out his legs. Chris was still asleep, breathing slowly, and Ari had no desire to get out of bed right away. He wiggled his toes happily.

Ari’s phone buzzed on the bedside table. He reached out to grab it and checked his texts, but it was just his friends reminding him about study group that afternoon. He opened Instagram instead, scrolling idly through the posts. He’d never cared much about social media, but it made for a good distraction.

His stomach growled and he sighed; he was about to close his phone and get up to make breakfast, but he paused when he noticed Chris’s face in one of the pictures.

He’d been tagged in a photo with a young woman. His arm was around her waist and hers was around his shoulders, and they were leaning onto one another, smiling and laughing about something. She was gorgeous, blonde-haired and slender, her lips full and her cheeks rosy. Ari’s stomach twisted with something sharp and uncomfortable.

There were more pictures. Ari flipped through them; this same woman was in all of them, standing beside Chris. In one of the pictures there were almost a dozen people but they were in the background together, and it looked like she was kissing him on the cheek. The feeling in Ari’s stomach sharpened.

Ari found the woman’s Instagram account, hoping she was Chris’s sister or something, but they had different last names. Even worse, her Instagram was full of pictures of her dressed in skimpy lingerie and posing in gorgeous dresses. She was a professional model.

The bed shifted, and Ari jumped, his phone thudding to the ground. A pair of arms encircled his waist, and Chris’s lips pressed into his hair. “Good morning,” Chris murmured. He drew Ari against his body, his mouth at the back of Ari’s neck, warm and wet.

“How long have you been awake?” Ari asked, his heart thumping.

“Not long.” Chris’s hand smoothed over Ari’s stomach, tickling him gently to make him squirm. His touch was warm and made Ari’s skin tingle, but the face of the woman on Instagram burned in the back of his mind. Ari imagined Chris murmuring soft words in some woman’s ear, touching her intimately like this. It sent an unexpected, sharp wave of jealousy twisting through Ari’s gut.

“I’m going to make breakfast,” Ari said. He slipped out of Chris’s arms and pushed aside the sheets. He sat at the edge of the bed and stretched. “Do you want something?”

“Sure. Whatever you’re making.” Chris sat up. “I need to shower. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Ari nodded jerkily. He yanked on some clothes and hurried downstairs with a tightness still lingering in his throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always for checking out the story! If you're enjoying, leave a comment, I would love to hear from you <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're about halfway thru the story now! Thank you everyone who's stuck with me so far <3  
> And if you dropped a comment or a kudos, here's an extra thank u <3 <3

“A charity benefit?” Ari said, frowning down at the flier Chris had passed him across the table.

Chris smiled, and cradled his cup of coffee between both hands. It was still early, before either of them needed to go to campus. “Several faculty from Greenfield were invited,” he said. “It’s open to the public, but the invitation isn’t going out to students. However, I thought you might enjoy going.”

“You mean, going with you?” Ari said, surprised. “As your…your date?”

“Well…” Chris hesitated briefly. “Not exactly, of course. We would have to keep a bit of distance while we were there, given how many faculty will be attending. But I’d really like for you to come, and I think it would be a good opportunity for you to do some networking.”

Ari squinted at the flier again. The event was this Friday, and Ari had most of the weekend free. “Okay,” he said. “Sure. Do I have to wear the monkey suit?”

Chris smiled. “Yes,” he said. “I’m afraid so. We’ll try it on tonight, make sure it fits properly.”

The idea of a fancy party wouldn’t have been remotely appealing a year ago, but with Chris it didn’t seem so daunting. Chris appeared perfectly relaxed as the two of them dressed the following evening, and he smiled as Ari fumbled with his bow tie. “You go to enough of these events, they all start to feel the same,” Chris said as he replaced Ari’s hands with his own. “You just need to get very good at small talk. I have a collection of anecdotes and funny stories that I cycle through depending on the situation, and that’s all you really need.”

“I don’t have any funny stories,” Ari said. “And I definitely don’t have any that would impress this crowd.”

“You underestimate yourself, darling.” Chris smoothed down Ari’s shirt and then leaned in, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “You look wonderful. Let’s get going, it’s a bit of a hike to get there.”

The event was being thrown outside the city, in what could probably be called a suburb but was basically just a strip of mansions out in the middle of nowhere. Ari eyed the enormous iron gates in disgust as they pulled into the driveway and stared in disbelief at the hundreds of windows that blinked out at them. They pulled right up to the doors, and there was even a valet to take their car.

Inside, it was even more disgustingly lavish. The windows glittered beneath rich drapery and the walls sagged under expensive art, oil paintings and gigantic watercolor paintings and confusing modern pieces that probably cost thousands of dollars but took fifteen minutes to make. There were tables against the walls covered in white satin tablecloths, and on top of them sat plates piled with tiny hors d’oeuvres: baked goat cheese rounds and dumplings in shiny red sauce and flaky pastries dotted with fresh berries.

“I can’t believe this place,” Ari said as they stepped into the hall. “This is horrifying. Who needs this much art in one house?”

Chris chuckled. He rested his hand briefly at the small of Ari’s back. “I’m going to go say hello to a few people,” he murmured. “Go enjoy yourself.”

“Wait, you’re leaving?” Ari said, panicking a little. “We just got here, you can’t just abandon me like that.”

Chris smiled. “You’ll be fine, darling,” he said. “Go introduce yourself to some people. Eat some pastries. I’ll come find you later.”

“But—” Ari huffed and glared at Chris’s back, watching him walk away through the crowd. Ari stood around like an idiot in the middle of the room for a few seconds, overwhelmed, feeling a little like he was drowning. Everyone here was so gorgeous and they looked like they’d gone to a million of these things—the women wore sharp heels and long fitted dresses and the men wore crisp tuxes and ties. They were all older than Ari and somehow _taller_ , too? Like, _all_ of them?

Ari made a beeline for a table full of champagne. He’d need several drinks to deal with this alone.

Their host made a brief welcome to the guests, giving a toast to whatever cause they were raising money for. She threw in some classic fluff about _giving to the less fortunate_ and _creating a better world for the future_ and Ari didn’t pay attention. He gazed in revulsion at the art on the walls. Just one of these paintings could probably fill up the entire fundraiser without any of these rich bastards needing to pitch in.

Ari had another drink afterwards and tried some of the food, but he didn’t have much of an appetite. This place felt too big, too crowded, too warm, and Ari was suffocating. The alcohol wasn’t helping; if anything, it was making the ceiling seem to float even higher up. Everyone was probably staring at him, wondering what he was doing here.

He tracked Chris down an hour into the party. Chris was chatting with a group of well-dressed, unfamiliar people; they were all balancing wine glasses in their hands and chuckling lightly at something Ari didn’t hear. “Professor,” Ari said as he approached, keeping his voice low, and Chris turned to smile at him.

“Ari,” Chris said. “Come over here, I’ll introduce you.”

He pulled Ari into the circle before Ari could protest. “This is Ari McKinnon, he’s a literature student at Greenfield,” Chris said to the others, his hand resting lightly at Ari’s shoulder. “Ari, Professor Leehan here worked at Greenfield for fifteen years and his wife taught there for twelve. And Mary, Allison, and Bradley are all alums.”

The five of them smiled benignly at Ari and greeted him with a disinterested sort of politeness. “Um,” Ari said, “hi. Nice to meet you.”

“Ari is a very talented writer,” Chris said. “Bradley, you two probably have quite a bit to talk about.” He glanced down at Ari. “Bradley works in publishing,” he explained.

“Great,” Ari said. “Um, I’m sorry, but I was actually thinking about heading out soon, so—”

“Chris, I think I saw the two of you come in together, no?” Professor Leehan said. He sipped his wine, his curious gaze flickering from Chris to Ari and then back again. “Chris, you’ve really taken this student under your wing, hm?”

Chris’s hand dropped from Ari’s shoulder like Ari had burned him, and Ari bristled at how blatantly patronizing Leehan’s voice was. It was like Ari wasn’t even standing right here. “I was just giving Ari a ride,” Chris said. He smiled, and his jaw was tight but Ari hoped no one else would notice. “You know how it is when you’re an undergrad and flat broke.”

Ari bristled again, his entire face going hot. The others chuckled, as though in sympathy, and Ari wanted to sink through the floor. “Excuse me,” he muttered, and turned away without looking Chris in the face.

He considered just leaving. He had some money saved up thanks to his rent-free living situation, and he could probably afford an Uber back, even from out in the middle of goddamn nowhere. He hated this party and everyone here, and he wasn’t even sure he could stomach sitting in a car with Chris the entire ride back anymore.

A figure came over to stand with him while Ari was hovering by the food table. Ari looked over, expecting Chris, and opened his mouth furiously to tell him to go away. Instead, it was a well-dressed young man in his mid-twenties, a smile on his face, his brown hair swept back into a careful wave.

“Hi,” the young man said. “You’re Ari, right?”

Ari blinked and turned to face him. “Yeah,” he said. “How did you—” He broke off, and his eyes widened. “Oh! You’re—Adam, right? We met at, um…”

“At that mixer last year,” Adam said, nodding. He grinned. “I didn’t expect to see you here. I’m still mad at myself for not getting your number back then. What a coincidence, right?”

Ari smiled back weakly. He hadn’t really been interested in Adam back at that mixer—in fact, he’d purposely left without saying goodbye so he wouldn’t need to hand over his number. At any other time, this would have been a nightmarish situation—but all things considered, when it was between facing Chris and hanging out with some grad student, Ari preferred this.

“Crazy coincidence,” Ari said. “What have you been up to, Adam?”

“I’ve been crushing it in grad school,” Adam said, and he immediately launched into a story about his graduate thesis and his internship and how he was going to be an entrepreneur, and Ari remembered exactly why he’d evaded this guy last time they met. Ari pretended to listen and nodded at the right moments, and smiled in a way he hoped was pleasant. A little attention wasn’t the worst thing in the world, especially when Chris was so intent keeping him at a distance.

“You want to dance?” Ari asked, when Adam finally took a pause for breath.

Adam smiled, looking pleased. “Sure,” he said. He set aside his drink and headed towards the dance floor. Ari drained the rest of his drink and followed.

Adam wasn’t a great dancer; he stepped on Ari’s toes a half dozen times in the first five minutes. Ari’s eyes watered but he just laughed like he found it charming. Adam’s hands were clammy and he smelled like weed up close. “So,” Adam said, “what brought you to the party, anyway? Planning to give a million dollars to this cause?”

“Two million, actually,” Ari said, avoiding the question. “Thought I’d spend my inheritance on, uh…” He frowned and glanced over at the banner on the far side of the room. “What is this benefit for? _Feed the Children?_ ”

They didn’t dance for long before Adam had to run to the bathroom, all the champagne catching up with him. Ari was grateful to get away from Adam’s clumsy flirting for a while and headed to the food table to grab another snack. He was debating between a goat cheese round and something that looked like it was made out of pickles when a hand suddenly closed, firmly, around his arm.

“A word please, Ari?” Chris’s voice muttered in his ear. It wasn’t really a question, but Ari debated shoving him off anyway. Instead he sighed and followed Chris reluctantly out of the party and into the hallway.

“You want to tell me what the hell that was about?” Chris asked as soon as they were alone. He kept his voice low, but it still seemed to echo against the walls of the hallway. This place was too huge to be comfortable to live in.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ari said, leaning back against the wall with his arms folded. He knew he was being petulant, but he couldn’t help it.

Chris narrowed his eyes. His gaze was hard. “That boy you were flirting with,” he said. “The over-gelled grad student.”

“We were just dancing,” Ari said. “What’s the problem?”

“Ari.” Chris stepped closer. “What’s going on with you? This isn’t like you.”

Ari’s anger flared. “How would you know?” he burst out, his voice too loud. “You don’t know me. I’m just some dirt broke undergrad you graciously took under your wing, right?”

Chris blinked, as though in surprise. “Ari,” he said, “I only said that because—”

“I know why you said it.” Ari clenched his hands into fists. “Because I’m your dirty little secret, and you couldn’t risk letting these people think that I’m anything more than your adorable, helpless student.”

“Ari, you knew what the deal was when you agreed to come here with me,” Chris said, his voice a little more gentle than before. “This has been the deal from the beginning.”

“Why did you want to bring me here in the first place, anyway?” Ari said. He gestured vaguely to their surroundings. “I don’t belong here, Chris. I don’t belong with these people, I’m not _like_ you. And you know that too, or you wouldn’t have said what you said in front of those people.”

Chris sighed. “I’m sorry I said something like that,” he said. “I know money is a sensitive subject for you. But I wouldn’t have brought you with me if I didn’t think you belonged.”

“But I _don’t_ ,” Ari said. “I’m a foreigner in your world, Chris. And the more you try to fit me in like a cog, the more I’m going to fuck everything up. I’m not—I’m not what you really—”

His voice choked and stuttered and he went silent, humiliated. _I’m not what you really want_ was what he’d been about to say, but that felt too heavy, way too heavy. Because Chris didn’t want him like that anyway, that wasn’t what their relationship was. That was never supposed to be what their relationship was—this was only ever supposed to be physical, and yet here Ari was, at a _party_ with Chris, what was he _thinking_ agreeing to this?

Ari rubbed at his eyes. The face of the woman from Instagram smiled at him from behind his eyelids. Maybe that was what Chris really wanted—someone he didn’t have to hide away, someone beautiful and perfect and mature who he could pose with on social media. “I want to go home,” Ari said.

Chris sighed. He pressed his fingertips to his forehead and for a moment it seemed like he’d insist they finish this argument now, but instead he just nodded. “All right,” he said. “Let me say a few goodbyes, and I’ll meet you outside.”

* * *

“God, would it kill them to turn on the fucking heat in this building?” Landon said.

Ari hummed in agreement and tapped his fingers against his laptop. He and his friends were gathered together for study group in the library, but Ari was starting to wonder if they should have met in the dorms instead. Even though it was the middle of November, the school seemed to think body heat was enough to keep all of their buildings warm.

“I heard a rumor that the school only turns on the heat for fifteen minutes a day,” Bethany, Landon’s girlfriend, said. “I think fifteen is being generous. I’d put my money on ten.”

“Apparently they don’t turn on the heat at the Mall of America all winter because all the people who visit are enough to keep it warm,” Ari said.

He looked away from the two-sentence essay he’d managed to force out and glanced at his phone. It was nearly 2:40, and Chris hadn’t texted him all day. They hadn’t spoken since the charity benefit three days ago, and Ari was starting to lose his mind.

“There’s no way that’s true,” Landon said. “That place is enormous.” He raised his eyebrows at Ari across his computer screen. “You okay, man? You’ve been real quiet.”

“I’m fine,” Ari lied. He closed his laptop. Chris would be finished with class soon, and Ari only had a good ten minutes to try and talk to him before his next one. “I need to head out, though. I’ll see you guys for lunch tomorrow?”

“Sure, man,” Landon said, amused. “Whatever.”

Ari hurried across campus, practically running. He arrived, sweaty and breathless, at Katelan Hall two minutes after Chris’s class ended. Chris glanced up in surprise at the sound of the door opening and raised his eyebrows when he saw Ari.

Ari took a steadying breath and stepped into the lecture hall, wincing as the door closed heavily behind him. Chris set down the papers he’d been collecting and leaned back against the edge of the desk, watching him approach, silent. His gaze felt like it was burning Ari’s skin.

“I, um, I know you have another class in a few minutes,” Ari said. He paused several feet away from Chris’s desk. “But I needed to talk to you. I—I wanted to apologize for what happened at the party.”

Chris’s expression didn’t change. “Ari,” he said, “I can tell something’s been off for a little while now. You can just tell me what’s been bothering you instead of trying to make me jealous, you know.”

Ari folded his arms across his chest and glared at the ground. He wasn’t sure it was that simple, actually. This whole relationship was more complicated than he’d expected it to be, and he didn’t think he could put everything he was feeling into words.

“Ari,” Chris continued, his voice softer, “if I did something wrong—if you want to just call off the arrangement—”

“No,” Ari said, his voice coming out louder than he’d intended. “I don’t. I don’t want that.”

Chris tilted his head. “Then what’s going on, Ari? Talk to me.”

Ari opened his mouth, closed it again. He was starting to regret coming here with such a short window to explain. Instead of trying to write an essay, maybe he should have been writing up an explanation, so he wouldn’t be talking out of his ass. He could have spent study group memorizing a whole speech.

Before Ari could scrounge up something to say, the door to the lecture hall opened and a handful of students spilled inside. Ari snapped his mouth shut, pressing his lips together, and Chris sighed. “It’s all right, Ari,” Chris said, voice low. “We’ll talk later tonight, okay?”

Ari nodded jerkily. He hiked his backpack up onto his shoulder and left the hall.

* * *

Even after Chris’s patient coaching, Ari really wasn’t much of a cook. His idea of gourmet food was eating fresh veggies instead of the frozen kind. But he spent all afternoon waiting for Chris to come home, and he couldn’t sit around anymore. He needed to do _something_.

When Chris arrived at home, Ari was frantically trying to salvage a pan of burnt chicken breasts and stop a pot of boiling green beans from spilling over at the same time. The kitchen was hot and a little smoky and Ari’s hair was sticking to his forehead with sweat, and he nearly dropped the pan of chicken in surprise when a voice behind him said, “Ari?”

Ari set down the pan on the stovetop and turned off the burner beneath the green beans. “Um, hi,” he said, wiping his hands down on his apron. “I was just…I, uh…”

Chris set aside his bag and stepped into the kitchen. He raised his eyebrows curiously at the disaster of a meal on the kitchen counter. “Are you making dinner?”

“I was trying to.” Ari undid his apron and yanked it over his head in frustration. “It’s supposed to be chicken parm. I think I set the oven too high.”

Chris smiled, amused but warm. He crossed the kitchen and grabbed a washcloth, running it under the kitchen tap. He came over to Ari and tilted his chin up gently, running the cloth along his forehead and his cheeks. “I’m pretty sure the tomato sauce is supposed to go on the chicken, not your face,” he said.

Chris’s hands were gentle and the cloth was cool against Ari’s flushed face, and Ari’s stomach twisted harshly. He caught Chris’s wrist, stopping him from pulling away. “Chris,” he said, his voice tight. He swallowed hard and spoke in a rush. “I saw those pictures you posted from back home. The ones with that blonde woman, especially. And then, at the party, I felt so distant from you, so I—” He lowered his gaze. It felt so stupid when he said it aloud. “That’s why I tried to make you jealous. I don’t even like that guy at all.”

“Oh,” Chris said quietly. He set aside the kitchen towel and instead reached for Ari with both hands, taking hold of his face. “Darling, you could have just talked to me.”

“I didn’t know how,” Ari said. “I tried to convince myself I was worrying about nothing, but our relationship is so strange, and—I thought maybe you wanted something else.”

Chris smiled at him again. His thumbs stroked reassuringly against Ari’s jaw. “The people in those photos are my relatives, Ari,” he said. “And even if they weren’t, I don’t want anyone except you.”

Ari let out a breath, relieved. “So, you’re not mad at me?”

“I was never mad at you, baby.” Chris pulled Ari into his chest, and Ari closed his eyes, leaning into the embrace. “And I’m sorry I pushed you away at the party. You’re right, this relationship is very strange and complicated, and I acted out of panic without thinking about how it would make you feel.”

Ari sighed. The relief felt warm in his stomach.

Chris hooked his finger beneath Ari’s chin. He tilted Ari’s face up to his, kissing him long and hard and slow, stroking Ari’s tongue with his own until Ari was trembling and panting. Chris drew away but he slid his fingers into Ari’s hair, holding him still as their eyes locked. “Ari,” he said, his voice lower than before, “next time you’re upset, I want you to just talk to me, all right?”

Ari shivered a little. He nodded.

“We’ll work through these feelings of insecurity together, darling.” Chris’s fingers traced circles at the small of Ari’s back. “You have no reason to be jealous.”

Ari’s body felt too tight, a hot, shivery feeling curling into his gut. “Really?” he whispered.

“Ari,” Chris said, tugging a little at Ari’s hair. “Sweetheart, this is more than an arrangement of convenience to me. You’re so much more important than that.” His hand left Ari’s hair and instead hooked beneath Ari’s chin again. “I adore you, darling, and I won’t have anyone else touching you. Do you understand?”

Ari swallowed. “I understand,” he said.

“Good.” Chris held Ari’s chin still and kissed him again.

Ari’s legs were going weak with relief and he clung to Chris’s clothes, pressing closer against him. They’d barely touched in a week, and that distance ached fiercely inside Ari’s body. “Chris,” he panted in between kisses, “I—I want—” He shuddered as Chris kissed his way down Ari’s throat. “W-will you—punish me?”

Chris stilled and drew back, looking Ari in the face. His gaze was hot. “Hmm,” he sighed. “Do you still feel guilty, darling?”

Ari’s whole body was shaking. “I didn’t tell you I was upset,” Ari whispered. “I flirted with someone else.”

Chris kissed him, more fiercely than before, more insistently. “I’ll meet you upstairs in fifteen minutes,” he mumbled in Ari’s ear, his voice rough now. “I want you undressed when I get there.”

Ari was already hard when Chris came upstairs to meet him fifteen minutes later, evidence of how pent-up he really was. Chris settled back against the pillows of the bed and Ari gasped, surprised, when Chris gripped him suddenly and bent Ari facedown over his lap. “C-Chris,” Ari said, tensing, but Chris just hummed, smoothing a gentle hand along Ari’s back. He edged his thigh in between both of Ari’s, coaxing him wider and murmuring praise when Ari spread his knees obediently.

“Just relax, sweetheart,” Chris murmured. He teased a little, trailing and tickling his fingertips along Ari’s thighs and his lower back, everywhere his body was sensitive. Ari trembled underneath the light touching, his cock swelling into a hard ridge beneath his body.

Ari had been waiting for something like this. His stomach clenched, hard, in anticipation.

“I need you to hold nice and still for me, baby,” Chris murmured, his voice low and soothing. “This is going to hurt, but you don’t have to be nervous. If you take it for me, I’ll make you feel so, so good afterwards.”

Ari shuddered. He kicked his legs even wider and hid his face in the sheets.

Chris brought his hand down, then, sharply, on Ari’s backside. Ari gasped, his fingers clenching on the comforter as he forced himself to keep still. Chris stroked his hand over the place he hit, and a tingling warmth spread across Ari’s skin. “Tell me how that feels,” Chris said softly, and Ari shivered.

“More,” he whispered, and Chris’s hand tightened, squeezing gently.

“Good boy,” Chris said roughly, bringing his hand down again.

He turned Ari’s skin bright red with the palm of his hand, spanking and then pausing to rub gently at his skin, again and again until Ari’s whole body was throbbing, low and aching, and he was crying out with every strike of Chris’s hand. He took the sheets between his teeth, barely resisting the urge to rock his hips against Chris’s thighs.

Chris paused briefly, letting Ari catch his breath. Ari was tugging restlessly at the comforter, fingers clenching and unclenching, and Chris chuckled. “Keep your hands where they are, baby,” he said, and Ari moaned.

Chris reached beneath Ari’s body to slide his fingertips over Ari’s cock, then, and Ari’s hips bucked at that light touch. “ _Professor_ ,” he gasped.

Chris just chuckled again and withdrew his hand. His fingers rubbed Ari’s entrance instead, and Ari jerked in surprise when one slid into his body.

Chris worked slick fingers in and out of Ari’s body until Ari was shaking. When Chris’s free hand slipped lower and curled around Ari’s cock, stroking, Ari’s vision nearly went white. “Chris,” he cried, fingers clutching at the sheets.

“Mmm,” Chris sighed, his fingers sliding deeper into Ari’s body, too much, unbearable. “Does that feel nice, sweetheart?”

“I’ll come,” Ari managed, his voice choked, “I’ll come, I’ll come—”

“Good, baby.” Chris squeezed the base of Ari’s cock. “You’ve learned to be so obedient.”

He withdrew his hands, and Ari made a desperate sound of protest. “No,” he moaned, “d-don’t stop—”

“I know, darling,” Chris murmured. “But we’re not done yet.”

Ari stretched out on his back at the edge of the mattress and watched, panting, as Chris edged between his knees. Chris pressed his legs open gently and ran his fingertips up and down Ari’s thighs, making him squirm impatiently. “Rest your hands by your head, darling,” Chris said as he rolled a condom onto his length. “Yes, like that. Good.”

Ari curled his hands into the sheets, white-knuckling them. He whimpered when Chris pushed inside him.

Ari was so sensitive, too sensitive, after a week without being touched. Chris fucked him deep and gentle and worked slick, warm fingers up and down his cock, and he brought Ari to the edge of orgasm just like that, until Ari’s back bowed off the bed and his moans turned into cries. Chris just chuckled and gentled his touch even more, holding Ari right at the brink.

“Please,” Ari begged, twisting against the mattress in frustration. “Chris, please, _please_.”

“Ari,” Chris said, “do you still think I want someone else?”

Ari clawed at the sheets. His body was shaking, singing with sweet, tortuous pleasure, and it took him a moment to answer. “No,” he panted.

Chris hummed. “Do you promise to tell me the next time you’re feeling insecure, darling?”

Ari huffed a moan. His back curled off the bed in desperation. “Yes,” he gasped. “I promise. I promise.”

“Good.” Chris stroked his hair. “That’s my good boy. Do you want to come, sweetheart?”

Ari nodded frantically. He yanked at the bedsheets.

Chris curled his hand tighter around Ari’s cock. “Come whenever you need to, baby,” he murmured, and Ari’s whole body tingled with relief. “You’ve been so good for me.”

Ari moaned raggedly. He rocked his hips into Chris’s waiting hand, his body trembling closer and closer to orgasm. Chris stroked encouragingly—one, two more pumps of his hand, and Ari wailed, his body seizing as he spilled all over Chris’s fingers. “Chris,” he gasped. “Oh— _oh—_ ”

Chris groaned. He tightened his grip around Ari’s waist, his breath hot against Ari’s throat, and Ari shivered when he felt Chris pulse inside his body. They came down like that, breathing heavily, tangled together on top of the sheets.

Chris sighed, and his fingers stroked through Ari’s hair. “You’re wonderful, sweetheart,” he murmured. “You know that I adore you.”

Ari hummed, content, and closed his eyes. He felt like he was floating. “I was just worried I’d messed everything up between us,” he mumbled. “I really like what we have—I don’t want to lose all of this.”

“Baby…” Chris lifted his head, meeting Ari’s eyes. “I’m sorry I let you think that. You didn’t mess anything up.” He smiled wryly. “You think you’re the only one who worries about not being enough? I worry all the time that I’m not giving you what you really need. This relationship isn’t particularly traditional, after all, and I don’t want to be the one keeping you from normal experiences.”

“I don’t care about any of that,” Ari said, frowning. “If I didn’t want this anymore, I’d leave.”

Chris kissed him, slow, soft. He sighed and sat up, tugging Ari with him. “Now, let’s take a bath, hm?” He smiled. “And then dinner? I’m thinking we should order in tonight, unless you’d like to take another crack at that lovely meal downstairs.”

Ari grimaced. “No. Takeout, please. Never let me cook again.”

Chris chuckled and kissed his forehead. “It was a very sweet gesture,” he said. “I have a delicious recipe for chicken parm that’s very simple to make. We’ll make it together sometime.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit of an interlude before the Real Drama gets going. Brace yourselves, kiddos.  
> Thank you as always for reading, and drop a comment if you get a chance. I always love to hear what you're thinking so far!

The last few weeks of the semester were grueling, but Ari attacked his finals with a new surge of motivation. He rode that unexpected surge all the way through his last few essays and exams and ended the term with a lot of lingering energy that he didn’t know what to do with.

Too keyed up to relax, he took to cooking dinner for himself and Chris, determined to do it right this time. He approached the process more methodically than before, working step by step through a recipe in one of Chris’s cookbooks. He took on a simple veggie stir-fry so that there wasn’t a chance of giving one of them food poisoning.

Ari looked up from the stove when he heard the front door open. He flicked off the burner beneath the food. “Professor?” he called.

Chris appeared in the kitchen. He smiled at the sight of Ari cooking. “Sorry I was gone so long,” he said. “How was your day?”

“Good.” Ari smiled back. “Grades were posted today.”

“I know. I was behind on grading final papers, I barely got them in on time.” Chris paused, and his eyebrows went up in realization. “How did you do?”

Ari grinned. “All A’s,” he said. “I even passed that stupid Shakespeare and Woolf class.”

Chris’s expression lit up. He crossed the kitchen and reached for Ari’s face, taking hold with both hands and kissing him. He was still smiling when he pulled back. “I’m so proud of you, darling,” he said. “You worked so hard this semester.”

“Yeah, but you helped—” Ari didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence; Chris kissed him again, and then again, backing Ari up against the edge of the kitchen counter. Ari sighed and forgot all about cooking dinner, opening his mouth against Chris’s, letting their tongues stroke together.

“I want to take you somewhere for break,” Chris murmured, kissing his way down Ari’s jaw and throat. “Somewhere we don’t have to be careful about being noticed. You deserve something special for all the hard work you did these past few months.”

“Something special?” Ari said, curious.

“Mmm.” Chris pressed his lips beneath Ari’s ear. “There’s a lovely resort few hours north of here, close to the mountains. Private cabins, skiing, hiking, hot tubs, saunas…” He slipped his fingers beneath the hem of Ari’s shirt. “Plenty of time to be alone.”

Ari shivered. “That sounds nice,” he said, a little breathily.

“Good.” Chris drew back. “I’ll make the arrangements now. We can leave this Saturday, spend all week there.”

Ari smiled. “I’ll see if I can take the week off work,” he said. He pushed at Chris’s chest. “Now go away. I need to finish dinner before you distract me.”

Chris chuckled. He turned and left the kitchen, reaching for his bag as he went.

On Friday afternoon, they piled their things into Chris’s car and took off up north. The drive wasn’t too long and Ari dozed through most of it; Chris played soft classical music over the speakers, and it lulled Ari into a comfortable stupor. When he blinked awake, soft evening light was shining through the windshield, reflecting off the surrounding snow. Off in the far distance were beautiful snow-capped mountains.

Chris’s hand was in Ari’s hair, stroking gently. “We’re here, darling,” he said.

Ari sat up. The world around them seemed to glow. “It’s beautiful,” he said.

Chris smiled. He rested his hand on Ari’s leg, thumb rubbing back and forth. “I just have to check us in at the front desk, and then we’ll head to the cabin,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

Their cabin was bigger than Ari had expected. It was two floors, yet it still managed to be cozy and comfortable. On the first floor was a small kitchen and a living room with a big fireplace. A cushy red couch faced a row of floor to ceiling windows—outside the windows, a balcony looked out over the mountains. On the second floor was a big bedroom with a king-sized canopy bed, and an attached bathroom with an enormous bathtub.

“Chris,” Ari said, standing in the middle of the bedroom and looking around in disbelief. He set down his backpack. “I can’t believe you did this.”

“Hmm.” Chris’s hands found Ari’s waist and his lips pressed against the back of Ari’s neck. “Do you like it, sweetheart?”

Ari nodded. “It’s perfect.”

“Good.” Chris’s hands slipped beneath Ari’s shirt, and his breath warmed Ari’s throat as he spoke. “Are you tired?”

Ari shivered when Chris’s hands slipped higher, smoothing gently along his sides. “No,” he said, his voice already going breathy.

Chris’s nose trailed along Ari’s throat, lips brushing his ear. “You always smell so good,” he murmured. His thumbs stroked soft lines against Ari’s skin. “Like….mm. Like fresh coffee and vanilla.” His hands tightened, and his body pressed firmly against Ari’s. “It drives me crazy.”

Ari dug his fingers into Chris’s arms. He tried to speak but Chris’s mouth was just beneath his ear, teasing at the sensitive skin there, and Ari’s legs were already going weak. It was so embarrassing, how easily Chris could make him feel this way. “Chris,” he panted, “I-I’m—”

“Shh, darling, just let me take care of you.” Chris tilted his chin up and Ari opened his mouth into the kiss, a familiar hot, trembling feeling already curling into his gut. He squirmed, twisting around until he could get his arms around Chris’s neck, and Chris hummed, pleased. He reached for the edges of Ari’s jacket, tugging it off his shoulders.

Even though it was cold outside, the cabin was toasty and warm; it was still comfortable even once Ari’s clothes were on the floor. Still, he found himself shivering as he watched Chris’s head lower between his legs.

“Relax, darling,” Chris murmured, his lips brushing Ari’s length teasingly. His gaze was dark, and Ari clenched his hands in the sheets.

Chris sucked him slow and lazy, like he was enjoying every second of it. Ari went dizzy with pleasure, his fingers tightening again and again in the sheets with every stroke of Chris’s tongue. He knew better than to beg for an orgasm by now—instead he endured it, sinking into the aching, throbbing feeling in his body, watching as Chris’s mouth teased him. The soft light flickered off Chris’s tan skin.

Chris did something absolutely sinful with his tongue, and Ari gasped. His toes curled sharply and his back arched; he barely restrained himself from jerking his hips into Chris’s mouth. “Professor,” he cried, and Chris just chuckled, low in his throat. His hands stroked soothingly against Ari’s thighs.

He drew back briefly, and Ari took the moment of reprieve to catch his breath, his chest heaving. “C-Chris,” he protested, watching as Chris reached for a bottle of lubricant, “If y-you do that I—I w-won’t be able to—” He broke off and gasped when Chris slipped a finger into him. Chris smiled and edged back down the bed.

Chris’s fingers worked him open, and his mouth lowered back around Ari’s cock, and it was too much, too good. The pleasure mounted and Ari clutched desperately at the bedspread, but his orgasm came out of nowhere. One brush of Chris’s fingers against his sweet spot and he was pulsing into Chris’s mouth, practically seeing stars. Chris hummed around him the vibrations sent another wave of pleasure through Ari’s body, tingling through his limbs and across his skin until he was sure he couldn’t take anymore.

Chris wasn’t done with him, however; before Ari had even come down Chris was pushing roughly into him, his gaze fiery, his hands gripping tightly at Ari’s wrists. “Did I tell you to come, darling?” he murmured, his voice like sandpaper, and Ari moaned in response.

Chris fucked him like that, until Ari could feel the pressure building inside him again, until he was sure he was going to come again and he wouldn’t be able to hold it back. Just as he was about to topple over the edge, however, Chris was pausing, his body going tense. His hands tightened around Ari’s wrists, almost painful but in a way that was so, so good. Ari moaned at the feeling of him throbbing.

Dazed, body thrumming with pleasure, Ari barely noticed Chris pull out of him; he blinked several times and Chris’s mouth was at his ear, his throat, his hand reaching down to curl around Ari’s cock. “One more time, darling,” Chris murmured. “Come on, now.”

Ari choked on another moan. His back curled desperately off the mattress. “Chris,” he panted.

“You can take it.” Chris’s hand was relentless, and Ari couldn’t have fought against it if he’d wanted to. “Would you rather I put you over my knee, sweetheart? Spank you hard until your skin is sore and stinging?”

Ari moaned raggedly. His whole body tightened and he pulsed in Chris’s hand, spilling over his fingers. Chris hummed, pleased, and stroked him through it, murmuring words of praise in Ari’s ear. “That’s right, there’s my good boy. Just like that. Very, very good.”

Ari shuddered. He slumped back on the mattress, the ceiling spinning gently above him. He suddenly felt exhausted, like he could sleep for a year; he was so wrung out he didn’t notice Chris leaving the bed until suddenly there were gentle hands at his legs, something warm and damp cleaning him off. Ari raised his head, confused, and Chris smiled at him.

“How do you feel, darling?” Chris asked.

Ari blinked, still a little out of it. Chris’s hands and the washcloth were so warm, and Ari had never felt so satisfied in his life. “You’re wonderful,” he breathed.

Chris’s smile widened. He set aside the washcloth and settled on the bed, helping Ari sit up. Chris kissed him, slow and gentle. “I adore you,” he murmured, kissing Ari’s jaw lightly.

Ari leaned into him. Chris’s stubble scratched gently at his face. “I’m hungry,” he mumbled.

Chris laughed softly. “Let’s make you some dinner, then,” he said.

* * *

In spite of the cold, Chris refused to let them stay inside.

Not that Ari had expected to hibernate exactly, but he also didn’t expect Chris to drag him out of their toasty cabin at nine in the morning the following day, talking about hiking trails and nature walks and a bunch of other bullshit.

Ari reluctantly went along with it, trudging around in the snow and looking at trees and whatever. It was beautiful, admittedly, with the mountains and the sun reflecting off the snow and the wildlife, but it was also ten degrees outside. The natural beauty didn’t quite make up for the way Ari’s toes went numb and the way the cold stung his cheeks and his nose.

“There’s a hot tub in the resort,” Chris said as they headed back from a hike Sunday evening. “It’s out on the top floor balcony, so you can look out over the mountains.”

After two days of hiking, a hot tub was exactly what Ari’s sore, exhausted muscles needed. There were a few people indoors in the pool, but the hot tub was empty; the sun was setting behind the mountains when they arrived, and it looked like something out of a painting. Ari sank into the hot water and sighed with relief as his toes finally began to regain feeling. “ _Ohh_. This was a good idea.”

Chris smiled over at him. He leaned back against the edge of the tub, resting his arm along the edge. “You need warmer clothes,” he said.

Ari glared at him. “I don’t really understand your obsession with experiencing nature,” he said. “Especially when we have a perfectly nice cabin that you paid too much money for.”

“Hmm,” Chris said. “I like to keep busy.” He beckoned with one hand. “Come here, sweetheart. You don’t have to sit so far away.”

Ari glanced around automatically, nervous, but they were still alone out on the balcony. They weren’t even in sight of the pool, and nobody would know them here anyway. Ari relented and slid closer, until he was pressed against Chris’s chest, leaning against his shoulder. Chris’s fingers dragged gently through his hair and Ari sighed, closed his eyes. He fell asleep there unexpectedly, to the bubbling sound of the jets and the feeling of Chris’s fingers.

When Chris shook him gently awake, the sun had gone down and Ari’s fingers were turning wrinkly. He blinked a few times and raised his head, confused. “You’re adorable when you sleep,” Chris murmured.

Ari twisted around in the water, meeting Chris’s gaze. Chris’s hair had long broken free of its careful tidiness and strands of it hung over his forehead now, damp from the steam. “How long was I asleep?” Ari asked.

“Not long,” Chris said. “Fifteen minutes, maybe. But I thought you might be hungry. Shall we go back to the cabin?”

“I’d rather stay here forever,” Ari said.

Chris chuckled. He hooked one hand beneath Ari’s chin, thumb stroking along the line of his jaw. He tugged Ari into a kiss, his mouth hot and his hands firm, and Ari sighed, shivered. He let his mouth open against Chris’s and settled into his lap, straddling him; Chris hummed, pleased, and stroked his tongue against Ari’s. His fingers dragged through Ari’s hair, not as gentle as before.

They kissed like that for a long time, until Ari was panting and clinging to Chris’s shoulders. Chris stroked his fingertips up and down Ari’s spine and sighed, his breath warm against Ari’s throat. “Come on, darling,” he said. “Let’s head back.”

They dressed and headed back to their cabin, where they scrounged up some ingredients for dinner. Afterwards Ari fell asleep again without meaning to, curled up against Chris’s chest on the couch, the fire warming his skin. He blinked awake, disoriented, over an hour later; Chris was reading a book with one hand and the other was tracing soft, gentle lines up and down Ari’s back. He smiled when he saw Ari’s eyes open, and his fingers moved to Ari’s hair, stroking. “Good morning,” he said. He closed his book, setting it aside. “How are you feeling?”

“Mmm,” Ari sighed. “Good. Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”

Chris shook his head. “I was quite comfortable, actually.” His fingers resumed their slow pattern up and down Ari’s back. “Have I been working you too hard, darling?”

Ari made a noncommittal sound, resting his head against Chris’s chest again. “I’m not used to physical activity, that’s all.”

Chris chuckled. He kissed the top of Ari’s head.

The fire burnt out and Chris carried Ari upstairs, where Ari collapsed into sleep again, not even bothering to properly undress himself.

* * *

“Can we stay in today?” Ari asked on Tuesday morning. “Just relax?”

Chris smiled at him from where he was standing over the stove, cooking both of them breakfast. The entire cabin smelled like pancakes, and Ari’s stomach was growling appreciatively. He curled his legs up on top of his chair, setting his cup of coffee down on the table.

Chris flipped the last of the pancakes onto a plate. He turned off the stove and carried a plate over to the table, setting it in front of Ari. “That sounds lovely,” he said. “I think you’ve earned a day of being spoiled.”

Ari grabbed the maple syrup, squeezing it over the pancakes. “I thought you didn’t really like these,” he said. “You’re always saying they’re too sweet.”

“I still think that,” Chris said. He set down his own plate on the table and sat in front of it. “But I know how much you love them. I’m trying to do something nice, so just be quiet and eat.”

Ari grinned. He reached for his fork.

After breakfast they settled on the couch to watch a movie, but Ari drifted off barely twenty minutes in, his head resting on Chris’s shoulder. When he awoke Chris was pressing kisses into Ari’s hair, his forehead, and his jaw, fingers stroking up and down Ari’s back. “You slept through the movie,” Chris said when Ari cracked his eyes open. “Didn’t keep your interest, hm?”

“Mmph,” Ari said. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

Chris shook his head. “You needed your rest.” He slipped his hand beneath Ari’s jaw, tilting his head up gently. He pulled Ari into a kiss, his tongue stroking against Ari’s, warm and slow. Ari sighed and squirmed against Chris’s chest, shifting until he was straddling Chris’s lap. Chris hummed his approval and his fingers slipped into Ari’s hair as he deepened the kisses.

“Mmm,” Chris sighed against Ari’s throat. “I was thinking…” His hands slipped lower, fingertips tracing down Ari’s back and curling around his backside, warm and firm. He squeezed gently with both hands, and Ari shivered. “I was thinking we could try something new today.”

“Something new?” Ari said breathlessly.

“Mhm,” Chris said. He pressed kisses along Ari’s neck. “A few things. Things I think you’ll like.” He hooked his hand beneath Ari’s chin and drew back, his eyes dark and heated. “I’m willing to bet you’re more kinky than you’ve been letting on.”

Something nervous and excited fluttered in Ari’s stomach. He whimpered when Chris pulled him into another kiss.

Chris sat up, holding Ari against his chest. He stripped Ari’s clothes off, first his t-shirt and then his sweatpants, until Ari was sitting naked in his lap. Chris took the opportunity to explore Ari’s bare skin with his hands, fingertips tracing along the lines of his ribs and up and down his spine, along his sensitive inner thighs. He slid his tongue along Ari’s lower lip and circled his thumb against one of Ari’s nipples, chuckled when Ari squirmed impatiently.

“Be patient, sweetheart,” Chris murmured. He drew back and his eyes swept up and down Ari’s body. “Stand up for me.”

Ari got unsteadily to his feet, shivering nervously. Chris just gazed at him for a moment, until Ari’s face went red and he shifted uncertainly. “Chris?” he said, his voice breathy.

Chris nodded to the carpet. “Kneel there, Ari,” he said.

Ari knelt on the carpet. He watched expectantly as Chris pushed off the couch, but Chris headed down the hallway instead. When he returned, he was holding several things in his hands. He knelt behind Ari, and his hands, warm, found Ari’s wrists. “Hold your hands like this,” he murmured, pressing Ari’s hands to the small of his back.

Ari held still while Chris wound what felt like rope around his wrists. It was soft and smooth, like satin against Ari’s skin. Chris wound the rope around Ari’s chest, securing it in intricate knots and ties until Ari’s upper body was firmly trussed up. “How does that feel?” Chris asked, stroking his fingers through Ari’s hair. “Too tight?”

Ari tugged at the ties and shook his head. “It’s okay.”

“Good.” Chris’s hands disappeared for a moment and then he was slipping a piece of fabric around Ari’s head. He secured a blindfold in place, blotting out his vision. Ari blinked a few times, disoriented. Chris’s hands reappeared a moment later, at his face this time, stroking his jaw. “Does that feel a little strange, darling?”

Ari shook his head again. “No,” he said. “It’s just…different.”

“Mmm.” Chris’s mouth was on Ari’s then, hot and wet, and Ari shivered in surprise. “Now, Ari, I want you to hold nice and still for me while we play, all right?” Chris said, his voice a little rough. “I need you to be good and obedient for me. And if you don’t like anything, all you have to do is tell me and we’ll stop. Understand?”

Ari nodded, breathless and eager. “Yes, sir,” he whispered.

“Good.” Chris’s hands disappeared, and Ari missed the warmth. The floor creaked as Chris moved and then something cool and smooth dragged along Ari’s inner thigh, something that felt like leather. Ari shivered and squirmed; the object brushed his other thigh, dragging up and down, lingering at the crease of his hip. When the object dragged along the length of Ari’s cock, his hips bucked involuntarily.

Chris brushed the smooth leather up and down Ari’s cock, light and gentle. A moan slipped free of Ari’s throat; he was already trembling and aching, twitching with the gentle, teasing stimulation.

“Mmm,” Chris murmured. The object disappeared and Ari whined in protest. “Already dripping, and I’ve barely touched you.”

The cool leather object came down sharply, then, on Ari’s inner thigh. He yelped and jerked in surprise, but with the aftermath of the strike came a pleasant, tingling warmth across his skin. Chris hit him again, on the other leg this time, and Ari whimpered.

“Do you like that, darling?” Chris asked softly.

Ari’s whole body shuddered. He nodded eagerly.

Chris struck him again, and again, one leg and then the other until Ari’s thighs were hot and tingling. Then there was a shifting sound, and Chris began again, at Ari’s back this time. Lines of heat lit up Ari’s skin at the small of his back, his ass, the backs of his thighs. By the time Chris stopped, Ari was panting and shaking and so aroused it was beginning to hurt.

There were warm hands at his jaw again, stroking soothing lines across his skin. “Good boy, darling,” Chris said, his voice low. “Very, very good.” He kissed Ari warm and slow, and then drew back and asked, “Color?”

Ari took a moment to catch his breath. “Green,” he answered. He licked his lips. “You can do more.”

“I could, but I don’t want you sore and in pain tomorrow, sweetheart.” Chris’s hands vanished again. Ari heard the snick of a cap opening; just as he realized what was happening, Chris’s hand was curling around his cock, giving a slow stroke from base to tip. Ari lurched desperately, his hips rocking forward, a hoarse moan ripping free of his throat. Chris chuckled. “I’m not done with you just yet, baby,” he said, his voice rough.

Chris edged him right there on the carpet, with infuriating, agonizing patience, first just with his hand, and then, even more excruciating, with a fleshlight. By the fourth time Chris denied him an orgasm Ari was resisting the urge to scream in desperation. “Please,” he wailed, hips rocking forward into nothing, his breaths coming in sharp pants. “Please, _please_.”

“All right, Ari,” Chris said. “This time, baby.”

He lied. He edged Ari again, and again, and _again_ , until Ari lost count, until suddenly Chris’s hands disappeared and the blindfold vanished. Ari blinked in confusion in the afternoon light, chest heaving for breath, body aching and trembling. Chris smiled at him and he stroked his thumb along Ari’s cheek, clearing away the wetness there. “You’ve been so good, darling,” he murmured. “So good, you can tell me exactly what you want.”

Ari shuddered. “Your cock,” he panted. “Fuck me, fuck me, _please_.”

Chris gave him what he wanted. He fucked Ari right on the carpet, his fingers digging into Ari’s thighs, the angle perfect and overwhelming. Chris’s fingertips traced lines along the marks on Ari’s thighs, where his skin was sensitive and still-tingling, and just that was enough for Ari to shudder into orgasm, splattering the floor and his own chest with droplets. The intensity of it left him breathless and shaking and crying out even after it was over.

Afterwards Chris held him in his lap and undid the ropes, letting them fall to the floor. He stroked Ari’s hair and his back. “Let me put balm on those marks before you get dressed,” he murmured, fingers brushing the small of Ari’s back, making him shiver. “I don’t want you hurting tomorrow.”

Ari sighed, leaning into Chris’s shoulder. “What did you use?” he asked curiously.

“A riding crop,” Chris said. “I thought it would be wise to start with something less painful, see how you liked it.”

“It didn’t hurt at all, really,” Ari said.

“Well, we’ll see how it feels tomorrow,” Chris chuckled. “And then you can tell me if you’d like to try it again sometime.” His arms tightened a little, squeezing Ari around the waist. “It makes me happy, that you enjoyed it.”

Ari drew back to meet Chris’s gaze. “You don’t have to hold back with me, you know,” he said. “I’m not fragile.”

Chris smiled. “And I think I was right about you being a little kinky,” he said, tickling Ari at his waist to make him squirm. “Let’s try some other things while we’re here, then. We can figure out what you like together.”

* * *

The week at the cabin passed by quickly, much too quickly.

Ari’s enthusiasm was infectious. When he wasn’t too tired from the hiking and skiing and exploring, Ari was climbing into Chris’s lap and distracting him while he cooked dinner and parading around half-dressed like he was deliberately trying to test Chris’s self-restraint.

Chris gave in every time. He was the first to admit that Ari had him wrapped around his finger. Chris put him over his knee on the couch, bent him over the kitchen counter, tied him to the bed and teased him relentlessly. Once Ari’s skin healed, Chris used the riding crop on him again; Ari cried out and shuddered and squirmed in pleasure beneath it, until he was twitching and dripping and bucking his hips against air, until the lightest brush of his cock had him shaking into orgasm.

Chris was careful not to push Ari’s body too far beyond what he could handle, but Ari didn’t ever give any sign of being overwhelmed. If anything, he was always asking for more, eager to try new things. Chris had no idea what he’d done to deserve something like this.

“I don’t want to leave,” Ari mumbled Thursday night. He was curled up against Chris’s chest in bed and Chris was stroking his hair, his back, their legs tangled together. It was warm and comfortable, and Chris had no intention to move. “Can we stay here all semester?”

Chris chuckled. “I don’t think that would be very wise,” he said. “I already promised I would be teaching some extra courses this semester.”

“Extra courses?” Ari raised his head off Chris’s shoulder, his gaze curious. His hair was a mess, both from Chris’s fingers and from what they’d just done. “Which ones?”

“Nathan Randall is taking a sabbatical,” Chris said. “I’m taking on his Historical Fiction course.”

Ari’s eyes blew wide. “ _Historical Fiction and the Spread of Colonialism_?” he said. “You’re teaching that?”

“Yes,” Chris said. He arched an eyebrow. “Did you sign up for it?”

Ari groaned. He rested his forehead against Chris’s shoulder. “I was really looking forward to taking that class,” he mumbled, his voice muffled. “I guess I’ll look for something different.”

Chris smiled. He dragged his fingers through Ari’s mussed hair. “You don’t have to drop the class, darling,” he said. “I’m perfectly comfortable with you taking it, as long as you are too.”

Ari raised his head again. “Really?” he said hopefully.

Chris nodded. “Just don’t expect me to go easy on you,” he said. He squeezed Ari around the waist, enjoying the way Ari flushed in response. “You won’t be able to seduce your way out of a bad grade. You’ll have to put in the effort.”

Ari huffed. “You really think I’d try and bribe you into a better grade? I’m not _that_ cheap.”

“You’d be surprised how many students have tried that, actually.”

Ari’s eyes went wide again. “Huh?” he said.

“Oh, never directly. Always insinuated. Something along the lines of _I have a couple free tickets to an art show next week, and my boyfriend cancelled on me_ or _I’m going to be all alone this weekend in my apartment, just me and a glass of wine, oh by the way here’s my phone number_.” Chris rolled his eyes. “They’re not as subtle as they think they’re being.”

Ari stared at a spot on Chris’s chest. He caught his lower lip between his teeth and picked at the sheets jerkily.

“Ari…” Chris tilted Ari’s chin. “Should I not have said anything?”

Ari shook his head. He softened a little. “It’s not your fault. I just didn’t realize.” He half-smiled. “I shouldn’t be surprised. You’re young and in good shape and you’re friendly, you’re easily one of the most attractive people on campus.”

“Oh?” Chris arched an eyebrow. “One of?”

“I think Professor Moore could give you a run for your money,” Ari said. “She used to be a model, after all.”

Chris chuckled. “That’s a myth,” he said. “She was never a model. If you asked her, she’d tell you the truth, but nobody ever bothers.”

“Oh,” Ari said, blinking. “Huh.”

Chris reached for Ari’s chin again, pulling him into a kiss. “I hate to admit it,” he mumbled in between kisses, “but you’re very cute when you’re jealous.”

Ari rolled his eyes, but he sighed and settled on top of Chris’s body, kissing him back.

Chris knew things between him and Ari were getting a little out of hand, far beyond what either of them had expected this would be going into it. Chris’s feelings were getting away from him and he kept wondering if Ari was feeling similarly, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to ask just yet. He would eventually, when he wasn’t so worried about ruining their arrangement, but not yet. Things were very, very good right now, and he wasn’t ready to risk that.

They headed back to Chris’s house the following morning, and the entire day was a bit of a rude awakening. “I kept meaning to tell you,” Ari said as they took their things inside, “but I agreed to go home for a little while around Christmas.”

Christmas was this coming week, and Chris had been meaning to bring it up anyway, to see what Ari wanted to do. He smiled. “That’s lovely, Ari,” Chris said. “I’m sure your parents will be happy to see you.”

Ari nodded, but still looked guilty. “Yeah, but I’m leaving you all alone here,” he said.

“Don’t worry about me,” Chris said. “I can spend some time with my family as well. I was postponing making any kind of decision with them until I knew what you planned to do. This will work out fine.”

Ari seemed to relax a little at that. Chris made travel plans that afternoon, and gave his parents a call to inform them of his decision. His mother was thrilled; she hadn’t expected to see him for Christmas. Chris listened to her ramble for a while, humming occasionally to prove he was listening. He loved his mother, but she liked to talk, and she tended to tell the same stories she’d already told many times. While she talked, Chris looked online for gifts.

Chris ended up leaving earlier than Ari; they said their goodbyes to each other that Sunday. “I’m having a couple things delivered here for you,” Chris said as he brought his things to the car. “They should arrive tomorrow, so you’ll get a chance to grab them before you leave.”

“For me?” Ari said, surprised. “Chris, I—I didn’t get you anything.”

Chris smiled at him. “I don’t need anything, darling,” he said. He curled his arms around Ari’s waist, drawing him close. “Just let me spoil you a little.”

Ari sighed and stretched up on his toes, pressing their lips together. Chris held him there, kissing him again lingeringly, tasting the vanilla coffee on Ari’s tongue. When Ari started to shiver from the cold, Chris pulled away reluctantly. “I’ll see you in a week,” Chris said. He kissed Ari on the forehead and released him, climbing into his car.

* * *

Ari called at the end of the week to inform Chris that he was going to stay home for the rest of break.

Chris wasn’t altogether surprised—family could put down a stunning amount of pressure. “If you change your mind, just let me know,” Chris said. “I’ll pick you up in half a moment.”

“Thanks, Chris,” Ari said. “I’m sorry, I know I said I’d be back this weekend.”

“Don’t worry at all,” Chris said. “You do what you need to do, darling. Are you having a good time at home?”

“It’s okay,” Ari said. He hesitated a moment, and then added, “It’s about what I expected, at least.”

Chris frowned. “I see,” he said. There was a heaviness in Ari’s voice that he wanted to ask about, but he chose to let it drop for now. “Does your family do anything special for Christmas?”

“Not really,” Ari said. “There are too many of us for anything organized. All of my relatives bring dishes and we have a huge sort of potluck.” He gasped. “I almost forgot—I opened your presents.”

Chris smiled. “Oh?” he said. “What did you think?”

There was a rustling sound. “The jacket is perfect,” Ari said. “It’s so soft, and it fits really well.”

“And the other thing?”

Ari gave a breathy laugh. “I mean, it’s amazing, but—Chris, kindles are so expensive. You didn’t have to get something like that for me.”

“Of course I did. It’s going to be a lifesaver this semester, trust me. Also, your back will thank me in five years.” Ari always carried around a thousand books at once in his backpack, and Chris had no idea how he could stand it.

Ari gave a soft sigh. “I miss you,” he whispered.

“Mm,” Chris agreed. Even after a week together at the resort, it felt difficult to be separated like this. “You can always call me if you’re feeling lonely, Ari.” He leaned back on his couch and smiled. “Tell me a little about your family. I’m curious.”

* * *

Chris spent the last few weeks before school began preparing lesson plans. Students began spilling back onto campus, and Chris’s advisees began scheduling meetings to talk about their upcoming classes and schedules. Spring semester tended to carry heavier anxieties, particularly for students who didn’t do very well in first semester. People came to campus with a renewed intensity, determined to do better and study harder; instead, they tended to burn out within the first few weeks when they discovered their new intensity wasn’t sustainable.

Chris made a mental note to keep an eye on Ari for that same thing, especially since he’d had a rough fall semester.

A couple days before classes were due to start, there was a knock at Chris’s door. “Professor Hadley?” a voice said.

“Come on in,” Chris said. He expected it to be one of his advisees, but it was Ari who stepped through the door, a backpack slung over one shoulder. He smiled in Chris’s direction.

Chris stood up from his desk. Ari had barely closed the door behind himself before Chris had him pressed back against it, his backpack dropping to the floor. He sighed into Chris’s mouth and reached up to slip his arms around Chris’s neck.

Chris kissed him again, and again, his grip tight and firm in Ari’s hair. When he finally drew back, Ari’s skin was flushed, lips parted, eyes dazed. Chris smiled, satisfied, and rubbed his thumb against Ari’s jaw. “When did you get back?”

“A few hours ago,” Ari said, a little breathless. “I came here to meet with my advisor, but I wanted to see you first.”

Chris kissed him again, reaching down to slip his fingers beneath the hem of Ari’s shirt. Ari shivered and pressed closer, but a moment later he was pulling away again, his eyes going wide. “I almost forgot,” Ari said. He slipped free of Chris’s grasp and reached for his backpack, unzipping it. He pulled out a flat red box wrapped in a shiny white ribbon, handing it over to Chris. “I know it’s a little late, but I got you something for Christmas.”

Chris raised his eyebrows and took the package. “You didn’t have to get me anything, darling.”

“I wanted to.” Ari nodded at the package. “Open it.”

Chris undid the ribbon and lifted the top of the box. Inside was what looked like a notepad—the cover was made of deep brown leather and was embellished at the corner with CH, Chris’s initials. Chris lifted the notepad out of the box and admired how soft the leather was against his skin. “It’s beautiful,” he said.

“It’s an organizer,” Ari said. “You’ve always been complaining about your old one and how hard it was to keep your students’ papers organized. This one has a daily planner. I got it monogrammed at a place back home.”

Chris smiled. “It’s perfect, Ari,” he said. “It’s exactly what I’ve needed. I hope you didn’t spend too much on it.”

Ari shook his head. “I got it from a woman back home who makes them by hand, and she gave me a discount.” He smiled. “As soon as I knew I was going home I knew I wanted to get one of these for you.”

Chris set the planner down on his desk. He reached for Ari’s face, kissing him, sliding his fingers back into Ari’s hair. They kissed like that for a long time, until they were clinging to one another and Ari was panting into Chris’s mouth. Chris sighed against Ari’s throat, enjoying the smell of his skin. “If I had my way I’d lock the door and bend you over the desk,” he murmured, trailing his nose up to Ari’s jaw. Ari shivered. “But I have meetings with students.”

“I’m supposed to meet with my advisor,” Ari said. He tightened his fingers in Chris’s shirt. “When will you be home?”

“I’m done at four,” Chris said. “Come to my office, I’ll drive you home.”

He kissed Ari one more time, long and slow, and then released him reluctantly. Ari reached for his backpack, tugging it back onto his shoulder. He smiled and ducked out the door.


	9. Chapter 9

Ari dove into Spring Semester with a vengeance.

With most of his generals out of the way, he was able to exclusively take classes that interested him. They were still challenging, but the work didn’t feel like a constant battle for focus the way they had fall semester.

Chris’s class was especially fascinating. The readings were engrossing and the way Chris led the discussion of the texts made Ari think hard about things he’d never considered before. He thought it would be weird, having Chris as his teacher again—and difficult to concentrate, probably—but it wasn’t nearly as bad as Ari had feared. Chris hadn’t been lying about not giving Ari special treatment; the feedback he gave on Ari’s papers was brutally honest and constructive, and he was always pushing Ari to engage more deeply with the class discussions.

They spent many evenings going more in depth with the syllabus, discussing the book they were working on in class over dinner or in bed or even while they were watching a movie. Chris seemed pleased with how engaged Ari was in the course; he was always happy to talk about books and papers, even when he was in the middle of something.

“I was thinking I’d do a comparison piece for my first paper,” Ari said, a couple weeks into term. He stepped into the kitchen, where Chris was finishing up the dishes. “Since you left it kind of open-ended. There are similar themes in the first couple books we’ve read that I think would be interesting to write about.”

“Hm,” Chris said. “Is that so?”

Ari flipped through his notebook, leaning his hip against the counter. He wasn’t one to keep meticulous notes, but he’d found it easier to absorb the texts if he wrote down his thoughts. “We talked about the idea of loss and grief in both novels, and the exploration of how it affects familial relationships. I think a paper about that would be pretty easy.”

Chris turned off the water and reached for a towel. “You shouldn’t be looking for an easy path, darling,” he said. “Look for what will be most interesting. And besides, the first paper isn’t due for a couple of weeks. No need to worry about it just yet.”

“I want to get a head start,” Ari said. He’d made a lot of mistakes last semester, and he didn’t want to repeat any of them. Especially now that Chris was his teacher again.

Chris smiled. He set aside his cloth. “Remember, you don’t want to burn out,” he said. “Pace yourself, Ari. You’re doing very well.”

Ari was so busy with his classes that the weeks flew by. He spent his days on campus, studying with his friends and going to class and going to photography club sessions, and then he spent his weekends working at the café. And ever night, Chris was waiting at home for him to talk about books or eat dinner together or, sometimes, head straight into bed.

With his life so busy, Ari didn’t even notice how much of the semester had passed until he was, suddenly, staring spring break in the face.

“I’m afraid I have to go out of town for break, darling,” Chris said over dinner.

Ari looked up. Disappointment dipped into his stomach. “Really?” he said. “I thought we would be able to spend break together.”

“Well,” Chris said, “I’d be happy for you to come with me, if you like.”

Ari frowned, puzzled. “Aren’t you going to visit your family?”

“No,” Chris said. “I’m getting together with some friends from my alma mater. One of them owns a summer home in California, and he’s invited all of us to stay there for a few days. I’d love for you to come with me.”

Ari stared. A thousand questions rustled through his head. “But,” he said, “I thought—”

“None of them are my work colleagues,” Chris explained. “We wouldn’t have to keep our relationship secret around them. Moreover, nearly all of my friends from college are gay or queer, so they won’t be surprised when I show up with a man.” He raised his eyebrows. “What do you think?”

Ari beamed. “Are you kidding?” he said. “I’d love to. When are you leaving?”

Chris smiled in response. “The flight out is tomorrow morning,” he said. “Pack a swimsuit.”

Ari had never been to California before, and the only plane he’d ever taken was one to Michigan for a relative’s funeral. It was hot and dry when they stepped out of the San Diego airport—hotter than it was back home, though not blistering. Ari shed his sweatshirt immediately, shoving it into his bag.

“This way,” Chris said, reaching for Ari’s hand. He pulled Ari towards the line of taxis. “It’s a thirty-minute ride to the house. Everyone else should be there already.”

“Should I be nervous?” Ari asked, climbing into the backseat next to Chris. “Your friends know I’m coming, right?”

Chris nodded. “Of course,” he said. “They’re excited to meet you.” He reached over, pulling Ari against his shoulder. “Don’t be nervous, darling. You’re intelligent and sweet and funny. They’re going to love you.”

Ari settled against his side, sighing when Chris’s fingertips traced up and down his arm. “How many people are going to be there?”

“Hmm…Nine, including us. Three of them are couples, and I haven’t met everyone’s partners, so there might be some people I don’t know.”

“What should we tell them?” Ari asked. “Do we tell them I was in your class, and that’s how we met?”

“If you’d like.” Chris pressed his lips into Ari’s hair. “I’m fine with whatever makes you comfortable.”

The beach house was incredible. It was two stories and crisp white with a wraparound porch, a second-floor patio with elegant wooden furniture and a state-of-the-art grill, huge floor-to-ceiling windows, a glossy kitchen with a big central island, and a living room with a huge white sectional and cushy armchairs. The house was accessorized with high speed internet and cable and sparkling backyard pool and a pool table in the basement.

Everyone was in the living room when they arrived, drinking mimosas. Most of them were men—dressed casually, in comfortable button-down shirts and shorts and sandals—but a couple of them were women, one of them dressed in a sundress and the other in casual jean shorts. All of them jumped up to greet Chris immediately, embracing him and patting him on the back, and then they turned their smiles on Ari, shaking his hand and offering him hugs. Ari smiled timidly at everyone and greeted as many people as he could, overwhelmed by the attention.

“You didn’t tell us he was so cute!” one of the men said, beaming in Ari’s direction. He was almost as tall as Chris and dressed in a Hawaiian shirt. “Chris, well done.”

Chris chuckled and slipped his arm around Ari’s shoulders, squeezing. “Thank you for inviting us, Micah,” he said to Hawaiian-shirt man. “I missed this house. It’s even more gorgeous than I remember.”

“Oh, wait until you try the pool,” Micah said, waving his hand. “It’s stunning at sunset.” He jerked his head towards the stairs. “Your room is the one at the end of the hall. It has its own private bathroom. You’ll love it.”

The room was small, but it was beautiful. Most of the space was taken up by a big flowing canopy bed and a big pair of windows looked out over the beach. Ari set down his bags at the foot of the bed and gazed out at the water; he’d never seen the ocean before, and there was something wonderfully calming about it.

Chris’s arms wound around his waist. “What do you think?” he asked.

“It’s beautiful,” Ari said. He twisted around so they were facing each other. “I’m glad you wanted to bring me with you.”

Chris smiled. “I’m glad you wanted to come with,” he said, reaching up to rub his thumb against Ari’s jaw. “I know my friends are a little intense, so don’t be alarmed if they barrage you with questions all afternoon. They mean well.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” Ari said. “I like them. They’re friendly.”

“You think that now, but wait until Micah has a couple drinks in him. It’s like he forgets what boundaries are.”

Ari smiled. “I have four siblings,” he said. “If I can put up with sharing a room with two brothers for eighteen years, I can handle your friends for a week.”

Chris raised his eyebrows. “You shared a room with two of your brothers?”

“Yeah. My two sisters got a room to themselves. I still haven’t stopped resenting them for it.”

Chris chuckled. He tightened his arms around Ari’s waist and leaned in to kiss him.

* * *

“We sort of thought you weren’t going to come this year, Chris,” Maia said.

She was sitting beside her wife, Cassidy, on the couch in the living room. The others were crowded in the other various seats, and Chris had taken one of the armchairs, a glass of red wine cradled in his hand. “Why do you say that?” Chris asked. “I came last year, didn’t I?”

“You haven’t come in _two_ years, Christopher,” Maia said, narrowing her eyes at him. “Is it because of that boy?”

She jerked her head to the kitchen, where Ari was helping another of Chris’s friends, Isaac, prepare dinner. Ari was competent in the kitchen but Isaac was a professional chef, and he was very particular about how things should be prepared. Chris hoped Ari wasn’t getting too overwhelmed.

“I’ve only been seeing Ari for a year,” Chris said. “I suppose that’s why I missed last summer. The year before that I was busy at work.”

“How long have you been at Greenfield now?” Maia asked. “A decade?”

Chris laughed. “Not nearly that long,” he said. “But I plan to stay there for quite a while.”

“Forget about that,” Micah said, waving his hand. “We’re not here to talk about your boring professor job. You’re supposed to be giving us the details about Ari. I mean, this is the first time you’ve been in a serious relationship with anyone for—what? Fifteen years?”

Chris cleared his throat. “Well, yes,” he said. “But my relationship with Ari isn’t exactly…serious.”

“Oh,” Micah said, his eyebrows going up. “You’re just fucking him, then?”

Chris sighed in exasperation. “Would I have brought him here if that was the case?”

“Micah, leave Chris alone,” Rick said. He reached for the coffee table to pour himself another glass of wine and then leaned into his partner, Daniel’s, shoulder. “Just because you would bring a fuckbuddy here doesn’t mean Chris would.”

Chris laughed. Micah pursed his lips, but tipped his head, conceding the point.

“Professor?” Ari’s voice called from the kitchen, and Chris looked over. Ari was alone at the stove and was waving Chris over. “Can you come give me a hand?”

Chris nodded and set down his wine. Micah groaned next to him. “He calls you _professor,_ ” he said. “God, how did you manage to find someone like this? He’s like a wet dream.”

Chris smacked Micah’s head on the way to the kitchen. It smelled wonderful—something was in the oven, baking, and Ari was bent over something else on the stove. Chris slipped his arm around Ari’s waist and pressed a kiss into his hair. “What do you need, sweetheart?” he said. “Did you scare Isaac away?”

“He’s in the bathroom,” Ari said. “He told me to keep an eye on this, but I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t want to screw it up.”

“I understand. Isaac is intimidating.” Chris leaned his hip against the counter and folded his arms. “Seems to me that you’re doing fine. It smells delicious.”

“Here,” Ari said, grabbing a spoon from one of the drawers. He dipped it into the sauce he was working on, and held it out. “Try it and tell me if it’s awful.”

Chris took the spoon and slipped it into his mouth. He hummed, thinking, and then smiled. “It’s lovely, Ari,” he said.

Ari huffed in relief. “Good,” he said. “I’m not much of a cook. I thought maybe I’d put in too much salt.”

“Not at all. It’s perfect.” Chris smiled and reached out to stroke his fingers through Ari’s hair. “You need to stop doubting yourself all the time, darling.”

“I know.” Ari glanced over at the living room. “Were you talking about me? I thought I heard my name.”

“Mm, a little. Micah is a gossip, and he wanted to know every detail of our relationship, of course.”

Ari’s face flushed red. “What did you tell him?” he said, his eyes going wide with panic.

Chris chuckled. “Not much,” he said. “Don’t worry. I’ve learned not to give Micah too much information.”

Even though Chris was used to it, Micah seemed more determined than usual to gather the details of Chris’s relationship. The others were less irritating, but Chris often felt them watching him and Ari with curiosity. Chris didn’t mind—anytime any of them brought a new partner into the group, it was always fascinating and intriguing, so he understood the scrutiny. He watched Ari closely, however, searching for signs of discomfort.

Ari seemed not to mind, for the most part. He drank wine with the others and engaged in conversation, answering questions about his classes and his major and his job. He stayed close to Chris, leaning into him and nudging Chris’s knee with his own and reaching for him with his free hand. “How long has Isaac been a chef?” Ari asked after dinner. He’d perched himself on top of the dining room table, watching as Chris refilled their wine glasses. “His cooking is amazing.”

Chris nodded in agreement. “He’s been a chef for a good six years now,” he said. “About as long as I’ve been working at Greenfield.”

“Maybe he’ll teach me all his secrets this week,” Ari said. “I’ll be a master chef by Friday.”

Chris smiled. He handed Ari his wine glass. “You’ve already learned quite a bit, darling,” he said. “That sauce you made was absolutely delicious.”

Ari shrugged, but he seemed pleased. He sipped some wine, and his eyes went wide. “Chris, this is amazing. Where did you get this?”

Chris smiled. “It’s from my private collection,” he said. “You like it?”

Ari nodded. He sipped some more. “If I get drunk off of this, I’m blaming you.”

“Mmm.” Chris stepped up closer, bracing his hands beside Ari’s hips at the edge of the table. “Maybe getting you drunk is my master plan,” he murmured. He rested his hands against Ari’s waist and smiled when Ari shivered. “I know how you get when you have a little wine in you.”

He pressed his lips against Ari’s throat, his jaw, light and gentle, and Ari sighed. “That’s not fair,” Ari whispered.

Chris chuckled. He brought his mouth to Ari’s, kissing him slow and warm. Ari set aside his wine glass and reached for Chris with both hands, fingers curling into his shirt. He tilted his chin, deepening the kiss, his breath tasting like wine and like the roast chicken they’d eaten for dinner.

Someone wolf-whistled. “Hey, Professor Hadley!” a voice said from the living room. “Get over here and join our game!”

Chris drew back reluctantly and rolled his eyes. Ari had gone very red, but he huffed in frustration when Chris pulled away. Chris smiled at him and kissed his cheek, then finally let go. He reached for his wine glass and headed over to join his friends on the couches.

This was a tradition—they would play card games with stakes, betting money and favors and whatever else they could think of. It had started in college, when all of them were broke, and back then all they’d been able to bet were five-dollar bills and school supplies. The stakes had heightened quite a bit now that they had fully-fledged careers.

“You’re getting smoked, Chris,” Micah said, after the third time Chris lost. “What happened? You used to be a champion.”

“I’m rusty, I suppose,” Chris said. “I think the rest of you have been practicing behind my back.”

“Maybe we have,” Micah said. He dealt out the cards. “You’ll never know.”

Chris sighed and picked up his hand, examining the cards. They were lousy. “Ari,” he called, glancing over his shoulder, where Ari had re-entered the living room with a new glass of wine. Chris beckoned towards him. “Come here, sweetheart. I need a good luck charm.”

Ari came over to the couch. He sat at Chris’s side and settled his legs across Chris’s lap. “What are you playing?” Ari asked, squinting at Chris’s hand of cards.

“A very annoying and complicated game that Micah keeps winning,” Chris said. He took Ari’s wine and sipped from his glass. “I bet a very expensive art piece on this game, so I need to win this time.”

“Mm.” Ari took his wine glass back. “I don’t know how much help I’ll be. I don’t know shit about poker.”

“This is _not_ poker,” Micah said, sounding offended. “This is much more exciting and interesting than poker. Poker wishes it was this game.”

Ari raised his eyebrows over at Chris, and Chris shook his head lightly in response. “Don’t bother,” he said. He rubbed his thumb against Ari’s knee. “I’ll try and explain the rules to you when you’re sober.”

“I probably still won’t understand,” Ari said, sipping some more wine, and Chris chuckled.

Ari’s presence actually seemed to help, even though he didn’t seem to be paying any attention to the actual game. Chris’s hand improved and he grew more optimistic. “What do you get if you win?” Ari asked. He’d finished his wine and he was playing with Chris’s shirt now that his hands were free, tugging idly at the buttons.

“Nothing particularly interesting,” Chris said. “That’s not the point. It’s the satisfaction of winning, that’s the point.”

“Since when are you so competitive?”

“Chris has always been competitive,” Isaac said. “He doesn’t do well with rescinding control over any given situation.”

Ari raised his eyebrows. “I guess that shouldn’t surprise me,” he said.

Chris rolled his eyes. He dug his fingers into Ari’s waist, tickling him in retaliation, and Ari yelped in surprise.

Micah tossed down his cards. “I win,” he said. “Pay up.”

“Ah, ah.” Chris set down his cards. “Not this time, Micah.”

Micah stared in disbelief. “Fuck off,” he said. “Fuck _off_ , how did you—”

“Good luck charm,” Chris said, squeezing Ari around the waist.

Micah narrowed his eyes. “Whatever,” he said. He reached for the cards to shuffle them. “Rematch, then.”

Chris smiled, a little smug. “I still don’t understand how this game works,” Ari said.

“I’ll teach you tomorrow, if you like,” Chris said.

“No way.” Ari shook his head. “Now that I know how competitive you are, I don’t think I’ll ever play a card game against you. Don’t need you getting all annoyed and controlling when you lose.”

“Who says I’ll lose?” Chris said. He leaned in closer, until his mouth was at Ari’s ear. “Besides, I thought you liked it when I get a little controlling?”

Ari shivered lightly. “Not in that context,” he mumbled.

“Mmm.” Chris moved his mouth down to Ari’s throat, kissing gently, and Ari sighed. His eyes slipped closed, and he leaned into Chris’s body.

“Take your damn hand, Chris,” Micah said, throwing a final card into Chris’s pile.

Chris smirked. He reached for his cards, but kept one hand on Ari’s waist, stroking lightly up and down his back.

Ari dozed off at some point, fading in and out. Several games in, Chris finally called it quits and shook Ari awake. “Wine sure takes a lot out of you,” Chris teased, once Ari’s eyes were open. “What did you have, two glasses? Two and a half?”

“Shut up,” Ari said, rubbing his eyes. He slid off Chris’s lap, swaying a little on the floor. He headed upstairs and Chris lingered to help Micah clean up.

“You should know how to quit when you’re ahead,” Chris said, bringing the rest of the dishes to the sink while Micah put away the cards. “What’s the score now? 5 to 3, me?”

“You’re infuriating,” Micah said. “I shouldn’t have invited you. I can’t believe I’m out six hundred dollars.”

Chris grinned. “I’m sure you’ll be okay,” he said. “You just closed on your third home, didn’t you? Or was it your fourth?”

“I like shiny new things,” Micah said. “Sue me.” He waggled his eyebrows. “I’m sure you can appreciate the value of pretty things. You have a very pretty thing waiting for you upstairs, no?”

“Ari isn’t a _thing_ ,” Chris said, bristling a little.

Micah waved a hand dismissively, and Chris sighed. He turned off the tap of the sink. “All right,” he said. “I’m turning in. Can you finish up down here?”

“Yeah, yeah. Go on, go play.”

Chris rolled his eyes in exasperation. He headed upstairs.

* * *

“Your boyfriend over there seems like he’s not having a very good time,” Micah commented.

Chris glanced over. It was late afternoon, and he was sitting next to Micah in the sand on a couple of beach chairs. Ari, meanwhile, was sitting on a towel under the shade of a beach umbrella, fully dressed with a t-shirt over his swim trunks. He was lying on his stomach and reading a book, apparently absorbed in it, and Chris smiled.

“He seems to be having an okay time, actually,” Chris said. “I’m just glad he agreed to come with at all. He seemed content to stay inside the house all week. It took a fair bit of convincing to get him to the beach.”

They hadn’t even gone anywhere special for a beach day—the house was still in sight behind them, a short walk away. It was a lot quieter here than it would have been if they’d driven an hour out to a public beach.

Micah scrutinized Chris’s face. “What’s the deal with you and this kid, exactly?” he said. “You said it’s not serious, but you also said it’s not exactly just fucking, either. So, what’s the deal?”

Chris shrugged. In truth, his relationship with Ari had developed far beyond what Chris had ever intended. He was starting to wonder if he shouldn’t have brought Ari here this week, wondering now if he was just making things more complicated. “It’s casual,” he said, which was as accurate as he could get. “What do you want from me, Micah?”

“I’m just saying,” Micah said, “you’d better be careful, or some other guy will sweep that boy right off his feet. If you’re not willing to offer the kid a relationship, I’m sure there are plenty of men who will.”

“If you say so,” Chris said. He sipped his drink, gazing out at the water, where Maia and Cassidy were busy splashing each other. Privately, he worried Micah might be right, and he couldn’t pretend that it didn’t bother him. A wave of possessiveness took him by surprise when he thought of someone else touching Ari or kissing him or making him feel good.

“All right,” Micah said. He set aside his drink. “I’m tired of this. I came here to swim.”

Chris raised his eyebrows. He watched as Micah marched across the beach. Instead of heading straight for the water, however, Micah paused next to Ari, a sly look crossing his face that Chris didn’t trust. Ari didn’t look up from his book until Micah was standing right over him, and then he yelped, startled, when Micah lifted him off the ground.

Micah had a surprising amount of upper body strength; he tipped Ari over his shoulder, and carried him, protesting loudly, to the water to dump him in the ocean. Ari’s yells of indignation broke off when he splashed into the water. Chris shook his head, amused.

Micah was still laughing when Ari staggered to his feet, both of them waist-deep in the water. Ari didn’t say a word; he pushed his wet curls out of his face and shoved past Micah’s shoulder, stomping towards the beach. He snatched his book off the ground and headed for the house without looking back.

Chris sighed. He got to his feet and paused, hesitating. Micah was approaching him, water dripping off him. “Kid can’t take a joke, huh?” Micah said.

“Well, you could have asked first,” Chris said. “I’ll go talk to him. I’m sure he’s all right.”

Chris headed back to the house, and found Ari in the bathroom of their shared room. The shower was running and Ari had already shrugged out of his shirt; he glanced over when Chris pushed the door open, and glared. “Did you tell Micah to do that?” he snapped.

Chris shook his head. He closed the door behind himself. “He was just teasing, darling,” he said. “You know he didn’t mean any harm.”

Ari tossed aside his shirt and scowled at the floor. “They’re all making fun of me,” he said. “None of them take me seriously, and I can’t blame them. You shouldn’t have brought me with you.”

“Sweetheart…” Chris came closer, reaching for Ari’s face with both hands. “They all love you. Don’t listen to anything Micah says.”

“It’s not what he says,” Ari said. “Or even the fact that he tries to haze me like that.” He sighed. “It’s just how they all look at me, like they’re bewildered I’m even here, like they’re trying to figure out what the hell I’m doing with you.”

Chris had seen that happening too. He’d expected it, actually. “I don’t bring people with me to these retreats, darling,” Chris said. “That’s the only reason they’re all treating you this way.”

Ari blinked, surprised. “You don’t?” he said. “I mean, you haven’t? Ever?”

Chris shook his head. “No,” he said. “Not once.”

“But…” Ari’s brow furrowed. “Why me?”

“Because I wanted you here with me,” Chris said. He smiled. “Isn’t that a good enough reason?”

Ari relaxed a little. Chris stroked his thumbs along Ari’s jaw.

“Let me run a bath,” Chris said, releasing him. “We can just relax together, forget all about the beach.”

“Really?”

Chris smiled. He turned off the shower and started the water running for a bath. “I’m not going to force you into a situation where you’ll be uncomfortable, darling,” he said. “I’m sure they’ll survive down there without us.”

Ari seemed calmer once the two of them had spent a little time soaking in the water. He sighed and leaned into Chris’s chest, his hair wet and tangled against his forehead. “I’m sorry I stormed out like I did,” he muttered. He traced his fingers up and down Chris’s arms. “It was rude. I’ll apologize to Micah later.”

“It’s all right, baby,” Chris murmured, kissing Ari’s hair. “I can talk to Micah if you want. Tell him to lay off.”

“No, it’s okay.” Ari sighed. “I know I’m just being stupid and insecure.”

Chris stroked Ari’s hair. He tugged gently. “Come here, darling,” he said. “Turn around.”

Ari twisted around, settling in Chris’s lap. Chris rested his hands at Ari’s waist and raised his eyebrows. “Ari, if you aren’t comfortable here, we can leave,” he said. “All you have to do is say the word. I promise.”

Ari blinked. “What?” he said. “Chris, that’s ridiculous. I wouldn’t ruin your vacation like that. Besides, I don’t want to leave. This is my problem, not yours. I’ll deal with it.”

Chris smiled. He tugged Ari closer and kissed him softly, trailing his lips down Ari’s jaw and his throat.

* * *

Ari decided that he really liked waking up to the sound of waves.

It was still early when he headed downstairs the next morning. Chris was still asleep, along with most of the other guests. The only other person in the kitchen was Isaac’s partner, Jamie. His dark hair was still a mess and he was dressed in sweatpants and a sweatshirt. He always seemed like he was cold—even on 80 degree days he’d wear a sweater.

“Morning,” Jamie said. “There’s coffee on the counter if you want some.”

“Thanks,” Ari poured himself a cup and then searched the fridge for cream. “Is Isaac still asleep?”

Jamie nodded. “He got pretty drunk playing card games last night,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I don’t think he’ll be up anytime soon.” He sipped his coffee. “Chris still in bed?”

Ari nodded. “He usually gets up early, so this is unusual for him.” He sat at the counter across from Jamie, cradling his coffee in between both hands. “But it’s a vacation. We’re supposed to be resting.”

Jamie smiled. “Chris isn’t much of a rest-er, is he?” he said. “He’s always working. Isaac is the same—he works like fifty, sometimes sixty hours a week. Taking a vacation like this is the only way we can find time to hang out together.”

“What do you do for work?” Ari asked.

“I work maintenance,” Jamie said. “Weird hours. I’ll work mornings, and then by the time I get home Isaac will already be working a shift at the restaurant.” He smiled. “I guess you and Chris don’t have that problem.”

“No, I guess not,” Ari said. “But it helps that we also live together.”

“Is it weird, going to the school where Chris works?” Jamie asked.

Ari hesitated. Jamie was probably the closest to his age—he was in his mid-twenties, a good few years younger than thirty-four-year-old Issac. If anyone would understand Chris and Ari’s complicated relationship, it would probably be Jamie—and Ari was suddenly eager to tell someone. He’d been keeping all of this to himself for a long time, and he hadn’t realized how much he wanted to talk about it.

“A little,” Ari admitted. “Our whole relationship is kind of weird, objectively. Honestly, it probably shouldn’t be happening in the first place, but—well—” He smiled wanly. “You’ve seen Chris. I’m only human.”

Jamie laughed. “I get it,” he said. “The first time I saw Isaac I almost had a stroke. I still can’t believe he’s into me sometimes.” He sipped from his mug. “Who asked out who first?”

Ari explained how their relationship had started—not the details, but the basics. “It feels things have changed a lot since then,” Ari said. “Things started out casual, but it doesn’t feel like that anymore.”

“Hmm,” Jamie said. “Like, you think you’re falling for him?”

Ari opened his mouth and then snapped it shut again. He hadn’t even really considered that possibility—he hadn’t examined his feelings closely enough. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’ve never been in love with anyone. I don’t know what it feels like. I don’t know how _he_ feels either.”

“Sounds frightening,” Jamie said. “When I first told Isaac I was in love with him, it was terrifying—I sort of just blurted it out. He actually didn’t even respond until a month later. It didn’t bother me, weirdly. I knew he felt the same, he just has trouble saying things like that.” He raised his eyebrows. “Maybe you should talk to Chris about how you feel.”

“Maybe,” Ari said. “It’s just that our relationship is already so unconventional. And I…I don’t know. I don’t want to screw it all up.”

“You won’t necessarily,” Jamie said. “Maybe it’s better to get it over with sooner rather than later.”

Ari sighed. “I guess,” he said. The thought of having that conversation made his stomach feel like it was caving in on itself. He’d never felt about anyone like this before. He and Chris’s relationship—it had _rules_. They had guidelines. Ari didn’t want to risk overstepping.

He turned at the sound of footsteps and his stomach turned over at the sight of Chris, his hair still damp from showering. Chris smiled and paused on the way to the coffeemaker to press a kiss into Ari’s hair. “Good morning, baby,” he murmured. He grabbed a mug from the cabinet and filled it with coffee, leaning back against the counter. “Are you two hungry? I thought it was a good morning for pancakes.”

“That sounds amazing,” Jamie said. He slid off his stool and drained his coffee. “But I need to go take a shower. I’ll see you two.”

He cast Ari a meaningful look as he left the kitchen, and Ari’s face went warm. He glanced nervously over at Chris. “You want to help cook?” Chris asked, setting aside his cup. “You can flip a pancake like nobody else.”

Ari smiled weakly. “Sure,” he said, getting off his stool. “I’m on it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!


	10. Chapter 10

“Shit,” Ari muttered, snatching the bottle of wine Chris had given him before it could shatter on the ground. He gazed down in dismay at his clothes, which were now splattered with red.

Chris chuckled. He handed Ari a washcloth. “I think your shirt looks better like that,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” Ari said. “I know this is good wine, I didn’t mean to spill it.”

“You’re fine, darling,” Chris said. He took the wine from Ari’s hands, setting it aside on the dining room table. “Is everything okay? You seem anxious.”

“I’m fine,” Ari said. “I’m good.”

“You’re making him nervous, Chris!” Micah yelled from the living room. “Leave him alone!”

Chris rolled his eyes, but he scrutinized Ari’s face, then. “You have seemed a little on edge this evening,” he said. “Are you sure everything is okay?”

Ari mustered a weak smile. It had been a slow day, and Ari really had no reason to be this jumpy. Everyone had lounged around inside all day, reading or playing cards or listening to music, and Ari had spent most of the afternoon with Chris on the couch, reading, his head in Chris’s lap while Chris stroked his hair. It would have been perfectly relaxing, except Ari couldn’t stop thinking about his conversation that morning with Jamie.

He was terrified to bring it up with Chris directly. Ari was starting to feel like he’d rather say nothing and let his relationship with Chris stay the way it was, even if that meant lingering in uncertainty forever.

“Yeah,” Ari said. “I’m fine. Seriously.” He knew he’d been avoiding Chris this evening, but he was starting to worry he’d say the wrong thing and let everything slip out.

Chris frowned, as though in concern. “Ari,” he said, reaching for Ari’s shoulders, “what’s going on with you?”

“Chris—” Ari shrugged him off, backing away. They stared at each other for a brief moment, silent. Chris raised his eyebrows, and Ari lowered his gaze to the floor, face flushing hot with embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. He scratched at his neck. “I’m going to um…get some air for a little while.”

He headed for the door. He could feel Chris’s gaze on him as he went.

There was something very calming about being in front of the ocean. Once Ari was sitting in the sand, gazing out across the water, the tightness in his chest seemed to ease. There was too much empty space out in front of him, and his worries dissipated out across the surface of it, the rhythmic swell of the waves slowing his thoughts into a gentle background hum.

He walked along the sand until he stepped up onto the big, cluttered rocks that framed the beach. He’d been gone for almost an hour, and it was very dark; only a few minutes on the rocks and he stepped wrong, sliding on the damp stone.

He gasped as his feet went out from under him. His toe caught on something and his leg twisted sharply, and then the next minute he was flat on his back on the sand, pain throbbing through his leg. It was too intense for him to focus on anything else for a moment.

He sat up, panting, as the pain abated. He curled over to look at his ankle but he couldn’t see anything obviously wrong. He groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. All he’d wanted was to take a walk, and somehow he hadn’t even managed to do that correctly. He reached out to touch his ankle, and winced when it tingled unpleasantly.

When Chris found him twenty minutes later, Ari was still curled over his injured ankle, in too much pain to walk back to the house. Ari didn’t hear Chris approach, so he jumped a little when Chris’s figure appeared at the corner of his gaze. Chris smiled gently at him. he was holding the neck of a bottle in one hand. “I was worried about you,” he said, sitting beside Ari in the sand. “You were gone a long time.”

“I’m sorry,” Ari said. “I didn’t mean to be gone so long.”

Chris reached over to rub his hand against Ari’s back. “I meant what I said before, you know,” he said quietly. “If you’re overwhelmed, all you have to do is say something and we can leave.”

“I don’t want to leave,” Ari said.

Chris raised his eyebrows. He handed over the bottle he was holding. “Do you want a drink, then?” he said.

Ari smiled. He took the bottle and sipped from the mouth of it. “Mm,” he sighed. “Riesling?”

“Your favorite.”

Ari lowered the bottle. Chris’s gaze was still concerned and Ari’s throat tightened. He felt like he was inches away from ruining all of this—he was doing the wrong thing staying silent, and doing the wrong thing by admitting how he felt, and it was all a mess.

“Thank you,” Ari said. “I’m glad you came to find me.”

Chris’s frown deepened. He reached out and pressed his hand against Ari’s jaw, thumb stroking back and forth. “Baby,” he murmured, “you’ve been so quiet all afternoon. What’s going on? You can talk to me.”

Ari sighed. He leaned in and rested his cheek against Chris’s shoulder. “I’m okay,” he said. “I’ve just been thinking a lot lately. I’d tell you if something was wrong.”

“Would you?”

Ari nodded. “I promise,” he said. He shifted, and then winced as his ankle twinged in protest. Chris caught his expression, and his frown of concern reappeared.

“Did you hurt yourself?” Chris asked, sitting up.

“Just my ankle,” Ari said. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Let me see.” Chris reached over, stretching out Ari’s leg, his fingers pressing gently against Ari’s ankle. Ari winced, hissing through his teeth, and Chris murmured an apology. “Might be a sprain,” Chris said, rubbing Ari’s knee soothingly. “We should get some ice on that. What happened?”

Ari pursed his lips. “I was just trying to take a walk,” he said. “The rocks betrayed me.”

Chris chuckled. “You’re lucky you didn’t fall into the ocean, too,” he said. “Next time, if you’re going to hike on the rocks, wear some decent shoes.”

Ari huffed. He eyed the beach house doubtfully, considering the walk all the way back, and Chris smiled at him. “I’ll carry you, darling,” he said, reaching out and slipping his arms underneath Ari’s body, hooking one under his knees and the other around his waist. Ari gasped as he was lifted into the air.

Chris carried him across the beach with apparent ease, keeping Ari cradled against his chest. Ari sighed and leaned into him, closing his eyes. “Are you really this strong, or am I just tiny?” Ari asked.

Chris chuckled. He kissed the top of Ari’s head. “A bit of both, maybe,” he said. “I try to stay in shape.”

“Mm. I’ve noticed.”

The others were still crowded in the living room when they stepped inside, and Ari’s face flushed hot when all of their eyes turned towards him. “What happened?” Micah said, raising his eyebrows.

“Ari managed to twist his ankle,” Chris said. He kicked the door shut with his foot, without putting Ari down. “Micah, do you have an ice pack? And perhaps some compression bandages?”

“Sure,” Micah said, hopping up. “Ice pack is in the basement, I’ll go grab it. I think there are bandages in the master bedroom.”

“Chris, I’m fine,” Ari protested. “Put me down. I can walk.”

Chris ignored him. He carried Ari upstairs, smiling at the petulant look on Ari’s face. “You expect me to let you try and walk up the stairs?” he said, pushing open the door to their room with his shoulder and carrying Ari inside. “With that ankle? I’m not going to let you hurt yourself even more, darling.”

Ari huffed in exasperation, but he couldn’t help wincing in pain when Chris settled him on the mattress. In the decent light, Ari could see his leg properly and he stared in dismay for a moment at the bruising and swelling that was already coloring his skin.

Chris _tsked_ with sympathy and settled at the edge of the bed to take a closer look at Ari’s leg. “Sweetheart, you need to be more careful,” he said, rubbing his thumb back and forth against Ari’s calf.

“It wasn’t my fault,” Ari complained.

Chris arched an eyebrow. “You did go walking on slippery rocks in flip flops,” he pointed out.

“Fine, it was a little bit my fault. But it was mostly the rocks.”

Chris chuckled. “I’ll go get the ice pack and the bandages,” he said. “And some pills for the pain, too. Here—” He grabbed a pillow and settled it beneath Ari’s heel. “Keep this elevated.”

He grabbed Ibuprofen from the bathroom and Ari groaned after he’d taken them, his leg throbbing when he adjusted it on top of the stack of pillows. “Maybe it’s broken,” he said, his voice tight. “How do you know if you’ve broken something?”

Chris smiled gently. “I doubt it’s broken,” he said. “But we’re going to want to compress it once the pain meds kick in. I’ll go see if Micah has unearthed them. He probably got distracted on his way downstairs.”

Ari nodded jerkily. “Don’t take too long,” he said.

“Mm.” Chris leaned in to kiss Ari’s forehead and then stood, heading for the door. He returned several minutes later with bandages and an ice pack in hand, and Ari eyed them both warily as Chris sat at the edge of the mattress. “How’s the pain?” Chris asked.

“A little better,” Ari said. “Do I need to wrap it up? Can’t I just leave it alone?”

“Nope.” Chris took firm hold of Ari’s ankle and raised his eyebrows. “Come on now, sweetheart. If you fight me, this will only take longer.”

Ari winced. He pushed himself up with his hands and instinctively tried to yank his foot back, but Chris only tightened his grip. “Do I need to tie your hands, darling?” Chris said, and Ari’s body pebbled with goosebumps.

Ari swallowed. He shook his head. “No,” he said hoarsely.

“Good.” Chris reached for the bandages. “Hold still, baby.”

Chris was clearly trying to be careful as he wrapped Ari’s ankle, but it still _hurt_ , and Ari struggled to keep still. By the time Chris was done, Ari teeth were clenched so tightly his jaw was aching, and he’d made half-moon shapes on his legs where he’d dug his nails into his skin. Chris stroked his thighs soothingly and smiled at him. “Good boy,” he praised, his voice low and warm, and Ari shuddered. “You did so well. Do you want a reward, baby?”

Ari’s eyes went wide with surprise. He nodded.

Chris smiled. He shifted, coming closer, and reached for Ari’s chin, holding him still. Chris’s mouth tasted like wine and Ari deepened the kisses eagerly, reaching out to curl his fingers into Chris’s shirt. Chris’s gaze was dark when he drew back. “Come here,” he said, reaching for the hem of Ari’s shirt. “I’ll take your mind off the pain for a bit.”

Chris settled back against the pillows and tugged Ari back against his chest, and Ari was already squirming impatiently before Chris had even touched him. “Chris,” he panted when Chris’s fingertips teased at his nipples.

“Behave, darling,” Chris said, his voice low in Ari’s ear. His hands slipped lower, tracing teasing lines against Ari’s thighs. “Just relax.”

Chris pressed gentle kisses against Ari’s throat and worked both hands between his legs, slow and teasing. Ari went pliant beneath it and leaned his head back against Chris’s shoulder, watching his hands move with half-lidded eyes. He dug his nails into Chris’s arms and fought the urge to pump his hips into Chris’s fist.

“Chris,” he moaned against Chris’s neck, his toes curling in desperation. Chris just chuckled, and Ari huffed in frustration when his hands slowed even more.

“If you can’t be good, I won’t fuck you, sweetheart,” Chris murmured. He slipped his fingers deeper into Ari’s body, teasing Ari’s sweet spot until Ari was barely restraining from crying out. Chris’s hand was hot and tight around his cock now and Ari squeezed his hands over Chris’s arms, panting, shaking.

“ _C-Chris_ —” He moaned in protest when Chris’s hands stopped, his body throbbing at the edge of climax, his nails digging into Chris’s skin.

“Hold it, darling.” Chris ran his fingertips up and down Ari’s cock, testing his self-restraint a little, and Ari was going to lose his mind. “Don’t come. I know you can handle it.”

Ari’s muscles bunched as he fought orgasm and he gulped in a few deep breaths, shaking and too-hot, but he didn’t come. Chris hummed, his lips pressed against the back of Ari’s neck. “Good,” he murmured. “You’ve gotten so much better at that, baby.” He shifted a little. “Turn around, darling.”

Chris fucked him on top of the mattress, slow careful and deep until Ari was shivering and panting with pleasure. When Ari couldn’t hold on anymore, Chris stroked him encouragingly and kissed him, swallowing Ari’s moan as his body clenched. Chris worked him through his climax and then his movements paused; Ari gripped him, stopping him from pulling away. “No,” Ari said, breathless, still shaking from his orgasm. “Don’t, Chris, don’t.”

Chris seemed a little surprised, but he hummed and leaned down until his mouth found Ari’s again. His muscles tensed as he moved and he groaned, low and throaty. Ari shivered at the sound, digging his nails into Chris’s skin. Everything was so warm and felt so, so good, and Ari’s skin tingled with leftover pleasure.

There was a knock at the door, then, and Ari nearly jumped. “Chris!” a voice said through the door. “Don’t tell me you’re asleep already. We’re playing poker, you promised you’d come join us!”

Chris sighed in exasperation into Ari’s hair. “Leave me alone, Micah,” he called back.

“Chris, stop being boring,” Micah said. The door was locked, but Micah knocked at it again, more impatiently. “Come have some fun. I have your favorite whiskey.”

Chris rolled his eyes. He straightened, and Ari whimpered as Chris pulled out of him. “Have fun without me, Micah,” Chris said. “Give me five minutes, I’ll be right down.”

Micah sighed loudly. “Fine,” he said. His footsteps creaked as he headed back downstairs.

Ari shifted once Micah was gone, and then winced when it jostled his ankle. Chris settled at the edge of the bed, reaching for Ari’s leg. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he said, frowning in concern.

Ari shook his head, pushing himself up on his elbows. He was half-hard again, but he was exhausted suddenly, from the pain in his leg or the emotional upheaval of the day, or maybe the sex. Possibly all three. “It’s okay,” he said. “I didn’t notice it at all until now.” He frowned. “Are you going to go downstairs with the others?”

“Hmm.” Chris rubbed his thumb back and forth against Ari’s knee. “You want me to stay?”

Ari nodded. “Please?”

Chris held Ari’s chin steady and kissed him, his cheek and his jaw and his ear until Ari shivered. “Tell you what, I’ll go make some tea and then I’ll come right back. Just rest, baby.”

Ari smiled and stretched up for another kiss. He tightened his grip on Chris’s arms, however, stopping him from getting up, and Chris raised his eyebrows. “Chris…” Ari swallowed, his throat suddenly too-tight, words pressing up against the back of his tongue and then staying there to choke him. “I…I need to tell you something.”

Chris tilted his head curiously and tangled his fingers with Ari’s, thumb rubbing circles against Ari’s palm. “What is it, sweetheart?” Chris said. His gaze was soft and his hands were so warm, and the tightness in Ari’s throat grew sharper, more painful. The words hovered at the tip of his tongue and for a second he almost said what he was feeling, spilled all of it regardless of the consequences. The feelings inside him felt too big, too intense, and Ari wasn’t sure they’d stay inside him for a lot longer.

When he stayed silent, Chris smiled at him and leaned in to kiss his jaw softly, releasing his hand. “Let me get you some tea,” he said. “We can talk about whatever you want after that.”

Ari nodded dully, feeling like a coward. Chris pushed off the bed and grabbed some clothes off the floor. He pulled them on and disappeared out into the hallway, leaving Ari in a silence that felt way too loud.

* * *

“Ow,” Ari muttered. “Fuck.”

He glared down at his ankle and then looked up at himself in the bathroom mirror, huffing a breath of frustration. The compression bandages weren’t making much of a difference, and the pain meds already seemed to be wearing off. Ari nudged the bathroom door shut and reached for his toothbrush, wondering how many hours he needed to wait to take more meds. He wanted at least a chance to get some sleep tonight.

Ari glanced up from the sink at the sound of voices in the bedroom. “I’m pretty sure it’s in my suitcase,” Chris was saying. “It’s a nice one. Merlot, 1998. I checked my bag just to bring it.”

“I owe you my life,” Micah’s voice said. “I think your taste in wine is the thing I miss most about you.”

“Oh, thanks.” There was the sound of unzipping as Chris rummaged through his suitcase. “Damn. I’m sure it’s in here.”

“If it’s not, you can get out of my house. You and your little boytoy.” Micah chuckled. “I can’t get over that kid. I’m a little jealous.”

“Hm,” Chris hummed, as though in agreement. “He’s lovely, isn’t he?”

Ari’s face felt warm. He pressed his hands against the door, listening more closely.

Micah groaned a little. “Damn, it’s been a while since I broke up with Alan,” he said. “Ever be interested in sharing Ari with a friend in need?”

Ari’s pleasure immediately melted. His stomach twisted.

Chris made a sound of exasperation. “Keep it in your pants, Micah,” he said. “I’m not letting you snatch up another guy I’m into.”

“Hey, I’m not planning on stealing anyone,” Micah said. He chuckled. “What are you so concerned about anyway? You told me yourself that you’re just using the kid for his body.”

The twisting in Ari’s stomach curled tighter. A bad taste rose at the back of his throat.

“Sure, but that doesn’t mean I like to share. I’m a bit possessive like that.” The floor creaked. “Ah, here’s the wine. Thank god, I was starting to think I left it at home.”

“Bless you.” More creaking, and then the door clicked shut. Ari rested his forehead against the door and closed his eyes, swallowing back the uncomfortable feeling in his throat. He shouldn’t have been surprised, really—he’d known what the deal was. Maybe it was just something about hearing it from Chris’s mouth.

All of the time Ari had spent over the past few days, worrying about Chris felt and figuring out how to express his own feelings, crumbled so quickly it was overwhelming. Ari had clearly read things wrong. He was grateful, briefly, that he hadn’t said anything about how he felt. He didn’t need Chris rejecting him to his face.

Chris returned to the bedroom with tea ten minutes later, but Ari was already curled up beneath the covers, pretending to be asleep. Chris’s fingers stroked briefly through his hair and he flicked off the lights as he left. Once he was gone, the emotions came, pressing harshly against the back of Ari’s throat. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly against them, and buried his face in the pillows.

* * *

“Thank you for having us, Micah,” Chris said. “I promise I’ll be here next summer again instead of abandoning you.”

Chris and Ari’s flight headed out in a few hours. Most of the other guests had already gone home, and Micah was seeing them off to say goodbye.

“I don’t believe you,” Micah said, but he patted Chris’s back good-naturedly in a hug. “But I’ll call you incessantly to remind you next summer just in case.”

Chris chuckled, stepping back. “I’ll look forward to it,” he said. He reached for his bags and carried them to the taxi to load them in. Ari lingered behind to say goodbye to Micah and tried to muster a smile, but it felt tight.

“Maybe we’ll see you next summer too, huh?” Micah said, waggling his eyebrows.

“Maybe,” Ari agreed. He glanced over at Chris, who had loaded their things and was waiting for Ari beside the doors. Ari hadn’t talked much with Chris during the last couple of days of their vacation; Ari hadn’t really meant to start avoiding him, but every time he looked at Chris he would hear Micah’s voice in his head— _you’re just using the kid for his body_ —and a hot twist of discomfort would tighten in his stomach.

Ari knew he was being ridiculous. He had no real reason to be so upset, and Chris hadn’t even done anything wrong. But now Ari kept wondering if all of Chris’s affection—all of the warm smiles and all the times he’d stroked his fingers through Ari’s hair and kissed him in greeting after coming home from work—Ari kept wondering if all of it was all pretense, a means to an end. Maybe Chris didn’t really care about him at all beyond what Ari could do for him physically.

Even if that was true, Ari was in no position to be upset about that. A purely physical relationship was what he’d _agreed_ to. He should be able to just shrug off this feeling, and put it behind him, and he couldn’t. He was pathetic.

“Thanks for the hospitality,” Ari said. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

“I hope so.” Micah squeezed him in a hug. “Keep an eye on Professor Hadley for me. Make sure he doesn’t get into too much trouble.”

“Sure thing.” Ari waved and headed over to join Chris in the taxi. He winced as he climbed into the backseat, and Chris glanced over at him in concern. “Do you need some pain meds?” Chris asked.

Ari shook his head. He pulled the door closed and huffed in irritation. “I’ve done nothing but stay off it for the past two days,” he said. “Why is it still so bad?”

“Because injuries don’t heal overnight, silly,” Chris said. He smiled. “Since when do you have a problem resting? You complain whenever I try to drag you outdoors, but all of a sudden you refuse to stay off your feet?”

Ari glared out the window. “I’ve been doing my best,” he said. “No need to roast me like that.”

Chris chuckled. He reached for his bag as they pulled out of the driveway, pulling out a hardcover book.

Ari tried to work on his finals on the flight back, but he couldn’t focus. Chris glanced over with his eyebrows raised when Ari slammed his laptop shut, but he didn’t comment on it. Ari wondered if Chris could feel Ari’s frustration. Ari felt like it was radiating off him. _Say something_ , he yelled at himself. _Tell him how you feel. Tell him you’re upset_.

Instead, he leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure things would be able to go back to normal after this.

* * *

“Are you hungry?” Chris asked. He and Ari dragged their things towards Chris’s house, and Chris glanced back as he unlocked the door. “I bet we can scrounge something up, unless you’d rather just order in for tonight.”

“I’m not hungry,” Ari said. “I need to study for finals.”

“Mm. I’m happy to quiz you, if you like.”

“No.” Ari shut the door behind himself, harder than he intended. “I’m fine, Chris.”

Chris set his suitcase down in the entryway and turned, frowning, to face Ari. “Ari,” he said, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Ari said. He hadn’t intended it to come out so sharp, but he was so frustrated with all of it, with his finals and with Chris and with himself for not being able to just _talk_ to him about it. “I said I’m fine.”

Chris raised his eyebrows. He stepped closer. “Just tell me what’s going on, darling,” he said. He reached for Ari’s chin, slipping a hand beneath his jaw. “Remember what we talked about? You can be honest with me.”

Ari shoved his hand away. “What do you care?” he snapped, the words bursting out of him before he could stop them. “I don’t belong to you. I’m just a fucking body for you to use, right?”

Chris stared at him blankly as the words sank in, and Ari immediately regretted blurting it out. “Oh,” Chris said finally, gaze clearing with realization. “You heard me talking to Micah?”

“I was in the bathroom,” Ari said. “You told him I don’t mean anything to you. You said I’m just a—a toy to you.”

Chris rubbed a hand over his jaw. He raised his eyes to the ceiling. “Micah talked about you like that quite a bit,” he said. “I’m sorry you overheard him.”

“But you didn’t disagree with him,” Ari said, a little desperately. Maybe Chris would say something to make all of this okay. Maybe this would end up being a whole misunderstanding and they could laugh it off.

Chris sighed. “Ari,” he said, “I’m not sure what you want me to say. You knew what the deal between us was.”

“I know, I know.” Ari rubbed his hands over his face. “And I didn’t mean to get so upset about it. I have no right to be angry, I—I _know_ that.” He lowered his hands, fixing his gaze on Chris’s. “I just thought I meant more than that to you.”

“Darling, Micah was talking about a conversation we had months ago,” he said. “At the very beginning of the relationship between you and I. You were never supposed to hear anything like that. I know things have changed since then—”

“But you still let him talk about me like that,” Ari said. “And you still agreed with him. I…I want to just shrug it off, because I like what we have, I really do, but…I just, I don’t know if I can.”

Chris nodded. A muscle in his jaw jumped. “I’d understand if you want something more than this, Ari,” he said. “More than I can give you—with someone more appropriate. I’ve always expected that anyway. This wasn’t supposed to be long-term, after all.”

Ari’s stomach dropped out. He clenched his hands into fists. “I wasn’t supposed to feel like this,” he said. “I wasn’t planning it.” He kept his gaze fixed on the ground. “You’re not going to feel the same way, are you?”

Chris was silent for a beat. When he spoke again, it sounded like he was choosing his words carefully. “I don’t think I can reciprocate, no,” he said. “You should have someone better for you, Ari. Someone who doesn’t hide you away like a dirty secret.” He sighed. “If this has gotten out of hand for you, I think perhaps it’s best we call it off.”

Ari dug his fingernails into his palms. “Fine,” he muttered. “Fine. If that’s what you want.” He reached for his backpack, pulling it jerkily onto his shoulder. “I guess I’ll start looking for a place to stay, then.”

“Ari, you don’t have to move out right away,” Chris said. “I’m perfectly comfortable with you staying here.”

“No,” Ari said. “I don’t want to stay here any longer than I have to. I’ll be gone by the end of the weekend.”

He headed upstairs. Chris didn’t try and stop him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
> Thanks everyone for sticking with me! We're coming up on act III now and I can't wait to share the rest of the story with you.   
> If you're enjoying the story, leave a comment and let me know! Hearing back from y'all shoots my motivation up to 100000000%  
> See you next chapter!


	11. Chapter 11

_One year later_

“So anyway, once the band takes off and we get this tour started, I really can see all of this paying off.”

Ari raised his eyebrows across the table. He swirled his spoon in his cup of coffee, his chin resting in one hand, and tried to pretend like he was listening. He didn’t really know why he’d agreed to this date in the first place—he had a huge pile of homework waiting for him back at his apartment, and all he could think about was how long it was going to take to finish it.

He was only a week into his senior year, and his classes had thrown him aggressively into the fray. He’d spent his entire summer working an internship and hadn’t had a second to breathe in between finishing that and coming back to school. He didn’t mind being busy—it was easier, having something to occupy his mind at all times—but he didn’t have time for shitty dates like this. It wasn’t worth it, especially when he spent the entire date listening to some dude ramble on about his unsuccessful garage band.

“Have you gotten a chance to listen to us on Spotify?” Gene, Ari’s date, said with a smile. Then, without waiting for an answer, “You should. One of our songs reached a thousand hits the other day. It wasn’t the one we expected to get so popular, but you know, they’re all pretty good. When you make art you kind of get attached to every piece of art you make. It’s like they’re all your children.”

Ari nodded vaguely. He reached for his phone, tuning it over to check the time. “Cool,” he said. “Uh, well, listen, Gene…I have to meet with my advisor in a few minutes.” Not technically a lie—he _did_ have to meet with his advisor, but not for another hour. “Not to cut this short or anything, but…”

“No, it’s cool.” Gene drained his coffee. “I should get going too. Maybe we can hang out this weekend, get dinner or something?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Ari said. “I have a lot of work to do this weekend, so I might be a little busy, but I’ll let you know.”

“Awesome. Text me.” Gene waved and headed for the door, and Ari huffed in relief as he headed in the opposite direction.

He’d been on so many shitty dates over the past few months. He’d spent almost all of junior year avoiding dating completely, still fragile after how everything had fallen apart between him and Chris. He hadn’t felt like trying to pursue anyone—after Chris, all guys his age seemed so irritating and self-absorbed. He knew he was being stupid, avoiding dating just because he couldn’t get over his lit professor, and he knew it was pathetic. He and Chris were never even dating in the first place.

Ari groaned as he flopped onto one of the couches in the library. Landon was sprawled out in an armchair across from him with his computer in his lap, and he raised his eyebrows in response. “Date didn’t go well?” he asked.

“He was so annoying,” Ari said. He leaned forward, resting his elbows against his knees. “He didn’t have a job, dude. His _job_ was playing bass in a four-person band that he’s been in since high school. All he wanted to talk about was how the band was going to _take off any day now_ and about how challenging the _creative process_ is. He didn’t ask me a single thing about myself.”

“Yikes.” Landon tapped his fingers against his computer. “Maybe you should start meeting people in person, man. Get off the dating apps for a little while.”

“I’m not good at meeting people in person,” Ari said. “I don’t know how to flirt unless I’m drunk.”

Landon snorted. “If it helps, I met Bethany at a campus mixer,” he said. “That might be a good place to start.”

“Ugh, gross. That sounds like my nightmare.” Ari rubbed his forehead. “Maybe I should just stop trying.”

“Hey, come on. Just because you’ve gone on a few shitty dates doesn’t mean you have to just give up.”

Ari shrugged. He dug his phone out of his pocket to check the time. “I don’t need a boyfriend,” he said. “I’m graduating this year, I’m going to be too busy working on my thesis and my papers and everything. I don’t have time to be in a relationship.”

Landon arched an eyebrow. He turned his gaze back to his computer screen. “If you say so.”

Ari grumbled to himself as he headed to his advisor’s office. Landon was so annoying, with his perfect girlfriend and perfect relationship. Ari had to deal with seeing the two of them all the time, since he and Landon were living together in the same apartment. Ari didn’t want to admit it, how much he missed Chris’s warmth and affection and solidity. He’d spent the past year trying not to think about him. It wasn’t just the sex, though that was definitely part of it.

Ari paused outside his advisor’s room, leaning his forehead against the wood of her door, and closed his eyes. Most of the time, Ari could block out the memories of Chris being a part of his life if he kept busy enough. But at night, when Ari was alone in his bed and his mind was empty and he was trying to rest, _all_ he could think about was Chris. His hands, and his mouth, and the warmth of his skin.

Dating apps were a decent way to distract from those feelings, but it didn’t help much when there was nobody decent to swipe through. At first, Ari had only made an account because he was horny and wanted someone to touch him, but every time he got close to meeting up with someone, he’d chickened out. He found he’d rather jerk himself off under the covers to the memory of Chris’s hands than sleep with some stranger.

Ari sighed, opening his eyes. He knocked at his advisor’s door.

“Come in,” Professor Jackson called. Ari pushed the door open and his advisor smiled at him from her desk. “Sit down, Ari,” she said. “How are your classes going?”

“Well, I had an anxiety attack last night and I’ve already been assigned seven readings this week,” Ari said. “So, you know. Great.”

Professor Jackson smiled wanly at him. “Well, I’m sorry to add to your list of anxieties,” she said, “but I’m afraid I have some bad news for you.”

Ari’s heart sank. “Oh, no,” he said. “I failed one of my classes last semester, didn’t I? I was worried I’d forgotten to turn in something important—”

“No, no, Ari, relax,” Professor Jackson said. “This is about me, not about you. I’m afraid I have to step away for the semester. My mother is sick, and I need to move home for a few months to help take care of her.”

“Oh,” Ari said, slumping in his seat. “Okay. I’m sorry to hear about your mother.”

“Thank you.” Professor Jackson opened her computer. “I think she’ll be okay, but unfortunately it means I’m going to have to transfer you to another advisor. It’s a good thing this is happening early in the semester, so it shouldn’t be too much of an upheaval.”

Ari was a little disappointed—he had been looking forward to working with Professor Jackson—but he nodded, resigned. “Okay,” he said. “Who are you transferring me to?”

“The only person from the literary department who’s available this year is Professor Hadley,” Professor Jackson said, and Ari’s stomach lurched, flipping over inside his body. “I contacted him last night, and he said he’d be happy to meet with you this afternoon and discuss working with you on your thesis. I hope that’s all right.”

Ari stared at her. He opened his mouth stupidly, but nothing came out. “Um,” he finally managed. “I, uh…I’m not sure—”

“I’m sorry, Ari, I know it will feel like starting over from scratch, but Professor Hadley is truly wonderful at what he does.” Professor Jackson smiled and closed her computer, folding her hands on her desk. “Besides, you’ve worked with him before, haven’t you? You’ve taken a couple of his classes before.”

“Yeah,” Ari said, “but—”

“If it truly isn’t working out, you can see if another professor has an opening later in the semester,” Professor Jackson said. “But it will be challenging, switching advisors mid-semester.” Her brow furrowed in concern. “Have you had poor experiences with Professor Hadley? You seem reluctant.”

“No, it’s not that,” Ari said. He hesitated. He couldn’t explain why this was a problem without putting Chris’s position at risk. He swallowed the nerves that had curled up into his throat, and forced a smile. “Professor Hadley will be fine. Sorry.”

Professor Jackson smiled back. “I know he can be a little intimidating,” she said. “But he has a lot of experience guiding students through this process. He’s available to meet with you at two pm to discuss your thesis project—do you know where his office is?”

Ari nodded. He sighed and reached for his backpack. “I guess I’ll head there now,” he said. “Thanks, Professor Jackson.”

“Sorry again, Ari,” Professor Jackson said. “I’ll still be available by email if you ever need a second opinion on something. But I’m sure you’ll be perfectly fine.”

Ari wasn’t so sure about that. As he headed for Professor Hadley’s room—Chris’s room—his heart began to thud harshly in his throat, making him dizzy. He hadn’t said more than two words to Chris in months. In fact, he’d been actively avoiding Chris for the past year—not even because he was angry, or resentful, or upset at the way things ended. Instead, he was frightened that the moment he laid eyes on Chris he’d forget all of his pride and his logic and all the reasons they’d decided to end things, and he’d throw himself into Chris’s arms.

He paused outside Chris’s door, taking a moment to try and calm himself down. It didn’t work; his chest only tightened more harshly, his stomach rolling over and over inside himself. He swallowed down his anxiety, forcing it as deep as possible into his body, and pushed the door open.

Chris was sitting behind his desk. He looked up and raised his eyebrows, and then offered a smile. His expression was warm, but polite, a sort of expression that must have been forced but somehow appeared effortless. “Afternoon, Ari,” he said. “Have a seat.”

Ari swallowed again, his hand clenching spastically around the doorknob. He shut the door behind himself and approached Chris’s desk, sitting down on the chair in front of him. Chris shut his computer, and his gaze felt like it was burning into Ari’s skin. Ari perched on the chair and curled his fingers together, preparing himself to leap up and run out of the room if necessary.

“I know this is a bit strange,” Chris said, after a brief moment. “I’m sorry Professor Jackson had to transfer you over to me—I’m sure I wouldn’t have been your first choice.”

Ari sighed. He clenched his fingers together. “It’s fine,” he said. “I know you were the only person available.”

“True,” Chris said. “But I actually requested to work with you.”

Ari raised his eyebrows. “You…did?” he said.

“Yes,” Chris said. “Probably not why you think, though. Professor Jackson was telling me about your thesis concept, and I thought it was fascinating.” He tilted his head. “I’m looking forward to working with you—truly. I promise, I’ll keep my distance and make sure you’re not uncomfortable.”

“I’m not worried about you making me uncomfortable,” Ari said. He took a deep breath. “I can be professional too. And really, I’m fine with working with you. It’s just…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s been over a year since we even… _looked_ at each other.”

“I know.” Chris folded his hands on his desk. “I wanted to make sure to give you space. I don’t like the way we left things, but we don’t have to talk about that. I’m happy to put it all behind us.”

Ari relaxed in relief, and let out a breath. Truthfully, he hadn’t even wanted to touch that conversation, and he was worried they would need to just to work together. “Okay,” he said. “That sounds good.”

Chris smiled, more genuinely this time. “So,” he said, leaning forward a little. “Tell me about your thesis.”

* * *

Ari closed the door to his apartment in a daze. Landon had to say his name twice before Ari registered it.

“Yo, Ari, you okay, man?” Landon was curled up on the couch with Bethany, watching a movie. “You look exhausted.”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Ari said. He kicked off his shoes and waved weakly. “Hey, Bethany.”

She wiggled her fingers at him. “Landon told me about your shitty date this afternoon,” she said. “I have a few gay friends. Do you want me to set you up with one of them?”

Ari smiled. “Thanks, but I’m good,” he said. “I don’t think I’m really looking for a relationship right now.”

“Well, let me know if you change your mind,” Bethany said. “We all need someone to make out with eventually.”

Ari rolled his eyes. He grabbed his backpack and headed to his room.

She was right, in some ways. A whole year without getting laid had left Ari feeling incredibly frustrated and pent up, and he hadn’t even really realized _how_ frustrated until now. He threw himself facedown onto his mattress and groaned into the pillows, his mind full of the sight of Chris’s fingers twisting together on his desk, the warm sound of his voice, his smile as he’d said _that’s good, Ari, I think you’re going to do a fantastic job on this_.

Ari shuddered. He rolled onto his back and reached frantically for the button on his jeans. He shoved them down his thighs, taking the boxer-briefs with them. He was pathetic, for not being over this yet. He wasn’t supposed to be thinking about Chris like this anymore. He wasn’t supposed to have these feelings anymore. He was supposed to have moved _on_ by now.

His body, however, had other ideas. Ari reached for his bedside drawer and rummaged until his hand curled around a bottle of lubricant. He was so hard, achingly hard, just from an hour of talking to Chris from three feet away, and how could Chris still _do_ this to him?

Ari stroked himself slowly, pressing his face into his pillows in a desperate attempt to muffle his voice. He wanted the hand around his cock to be bigger, he wanted a voice to murmur praise in his ear and tell him how good he was.

Panting, Ari squeezed more lube onto his fingers and reached lower, pressing them against his entrance. He ignored the pain and shoved two, three fingers into his body, desperate for that feeling of fullness. When he couldn’t stand it anymore he reached for his cock with his free hand and stroked, until he spilled, hot, over his chest. He came down with his body tingling and throbbing, guilt already settling heavily in his stomach.

Lying there, Ari wondered if Chris was feeling anything similar. It wasn’t likely—Chris had probably moved on much more quickly than Ari had been able to. It was a frustrating thought, that Chris was totally fine while Ari was going out of his mind.

Even worse was the thought that, maybe, Chris had already found someone new. Even if Chris wasn’t interested in a relationship, it wouldn’t be difficult for him to find a new person to sleep with. Ari was startled by the sharp, unpleasant feeling that twisted through him as he pictured Chris touching and teasing and kissing someone new.

Ari showered later and now that the edge was taken off he felt a little better, but he didn’t know how he would be able to work with Chris all year like this. If he wasn’t able to get control over his body and his hormones, he’d end up like this after every single meeting, and eventually he’d lose control and throw himself at Chris, just like he was fearing.

He leaned his forehead against the tile of the shower wall, and closed his eyes. He could get a handle on himself. He _could_. He’d get over himself and find someone else, someone better for him. He’d force it, if he had to. He could manage that. He was sick of being stuck in memories for an entire year. He was tired of thinking about Chris every time he missed being touched and held and kissed.

He shut off the water, newly determined. This year would be different. He was sure of that.

* * *

“You’re doing very well, Ari,” Chris said. “You’re making great progress. You just keep doubting yourself.”

“I’m not making enough progress,” Ari said. “There’s no way I’ll finish everything by the end of the semester. I’m going to be working through all of Thanksgiving Break, and I won’t be able to meet with you because campus is going to be closed.”

“Hmm,” Chris said thoughtfully. He tapped his fingers against his desk. “Well, I’ll be in town during break. Perhaps I can continue helping you, if you’re comfortable with that.”

Ari jerked his gaze up. “Really?” he said.

Chris nodded. “I’ll have plenty of time. Why don’t you work on this next draft, and we can talk about it in person this weekend?”

“Okay,” Ari said. He hesitated. “I—I mean—in person?”

“I thought you could simply come to my house,” Chris said. “But if you’d rather go to dinner somewhere—or if you’d be more comfortable just talking on the phone—”

“No, that’s okay,” Ari said. “Um…why don’t you come to my apartment? I’ll check with my roommate, make sure he doesn’t mind.”

“Certainly.” Chris opened his laptop. “Now, let’s go over the points we talked about, make sure you know what you need to work on this week.”

Ari had invited Chris over to his apartment in the hopes that having Landon there would keep Ari from throwing himself at Chris accidentally, but as it turned out, Landon already had plans for the weekend. “I thought you weren’t going home for break,” Ari said in surprise when he talked to Landon that evening. “You said you were sick of dealing with your family for Thanksgiving.”

“I know,” Landon said. “Bethany actually invited me to stay with her and her family for the weekend. I’ve never met her parents before, so I figured her asking me was pretty important. Sorry, dude, I know that means you’ll be alone all weekend.”

“No, it’s, uh…it’s fine,” Ari said. “I’ll just be working on my thesis all weekend.”

It was hard to focus on writing and editing that week, with the knowledge that Chris would be coming to his place on Saturday night. By the time Saturday rolled around, Ari still didn’t feel good about his new draft and instead of working on it, he found himself racing around the apartment, cleaning up and rearranging furniture. He opened up a bottle of wine and sipped a glass of it as he made dinner, hoping it would calm his nerves. Instead, his anxiety only swelled and the alcohol made him dump boiling water on the ground, narrowly avoiding giving himself third degree burns.

There was a knock at the door just as Ari was finishing cleaning up the water with paper towels. Ari cursed and tossed the towels in the trash, and frantically tried to smooth his hair down as he made for the door. He probably looked like a mess, his hair frizzy and his skin sweaty and flushed, and it was even more agonizing when he opened the door and saw Chris standing there looking perfect.

Chris smiled. His hair was smoothed back and he was dressed in a chest-hugging sweater and a pair of casual jeans, a notebook tucked under his arm. “Evening,” he said. He looked Ari up and down briefly, and his smile widened. “Cute apron.”

Ari looked down at himself. He realized he was still wearing the apron Landon had gotten him as a joke gift—it was designed to look like a fifties-housewife dress, complete with ruffles and orange polka dots. Ari huffed and untied the apron, yanking it over his head. “I was making dinner,” he said, stepping out of the way to let Chris into the apartment. “You can have some if you want.”

“Thank you.” Chris headed towards the kitchen, setting his notebook on the island counter. “Can I help you with anything?”

“You don’t have to,” Ari said. He set his apron down on one of the stools and tried to smooth down his t-shirt. “You’re my guest.”

Chris smiled at him. “Yes, but I know what you look like when you’re overwhelmed,” he said. “Please, let me help. I won’t get in your way.”

Ari sighed. “Fine,” he said.

He went back to work on the pesto sauce while Chris started the pasta boiling again. “Where’s your roommate?” Chris asked as he stirred the pasta in the boiling water. “I was interested in meeting him.”

“He’s with his girlfriend for break,” Ari said. “They’re up north for the weekend.”

“Sounds pretty serious.”

“I guess it is.” Ari shrugged. “She’s pretty cool. He has good taste.”

Chris smiled. He turned off the pasta water. “And, you?” he asked. “Have you had any luck finding anyone this past year?”

Ari’s hands went still. He kept his gaze fixed on the stove, his face going warm. “I, um…”

“I’m sorry,” Chris said quickly. He set a strainer in the sink. “That was too personal. I know I promised to keep things professional.”

“No, it’s okay,” Ari said. He cleared his throat. “I’ve tried. I’ve been on dating apps and everything. But I’ve hated everyone I’ve gone out with.”

“Everyone?” Chris said, sounding surprised.

“Pretty much.” Ari watched as Chris poured the pasta into the sieve. “Maybe I’m just being too picky.”

“Hmm. Well, dating is difficult anyway,” Chris said. “I’ve never been on any dating apps, but I imagine it complicates things, trying to meet people online, rather than making it simpler.”

“I guess.” Ari reached for the pasta as Chris handed it to him. “Thank you.”

They sat together at the kitchen counter as they ate and sipped wine, and Ari started to feel calmer once he’d finished his second glass. He was nervous to show what he’d worked on with his thesis, but Chris seemed pleased with the progress he’d made. “This is a huge improvement,” Chris said. “Your ideas are much more organized, I can really understand your thought process now.”

Ari huffed in relief. “Thank god,” he said. He gathered their dishes and brought them to the sink. “I was worried I was going in the completely wrong direction.”

“Not at all.” Chris stood, his stool scraping against the floor. “I have thoughts, of course. But first, let me do that for you, you’re the one who cooked dinner.”

“No way.” Ari pointed imperiously at the couch. “You’re my guest. Sit down.”

Chris smiled and shook his head, amused. He headed over to the couch.

Ari sipped his third glass of wine as he and Chris went over Ari’s thesis, sitting next to one another on the couch. Maybe it was the wine, but this was actually starting to feel _normal_ , almost—like Chris could just talk to each other without the air between them tightening, like they were actually friends.

“Ari?” Chris said, arching an eyebrow. “Are you listening to me?”

Ari blinked at him. His face flushed hot. He hadn’t been listening, really. He’d been too busy staring at Chris’s hands, at his mouth, at the line of his jaw. “Sorry,” he said. He drained his wine. “I’m listening. I’m just…thinking.”

“Mm,” Chris said. “About what?”

Ari chewed on his lower lip. He tried to swallow back the question, but the wine was making him feel relaxed, and the words slipped out before he could stop them. “Are you—seeing anyone?” he asked in a rush, the words almost stumbling over each other. “I mean, it’s been a year, so—I’d get it, but I—”

Chris hesitated. He cleared his throat. “Ari…”

“No, wait—” Ari shook his head, waving his hands. “Never mind. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. I don’t think I even want to know.”

“Ari.” Chris reached over. He hesitated briefly, and them rested his hand, carefully, on Ari’s knee. “I know it’s frustrating, putting yourself out there, trying to meet someone new. But I promise you’ll get there. You have so much to offer.”

Ari shook his head again. “Chris—”

“You do, Ari. You’re so sweet and kind and intelligent.” Chris’s thumb stroked back and forth against Ari’s knee, and his hands were so warm, and Ari was losing his mind. “Regardless of what happened between us, I don’t want you to forget that.”

Ari swallowed. His head was buzzing with wine and how close Chris was, and he _ached_.

“I haven’t seen anyone all year,” Chris said, and his gaze was fixed on Ari’s, intense. “And I knew I shouldn’t have offered to be your advisor, because I didn’t want to put myself too close to you again. I’ve tried so hard to keep my space from you.”

A shiver went straight up Ari’s spine, tingling through his limbs. “I’m going insane,” he whispered. “I can’t stand it, Chris.”

Chris sighed. His eyes were dark and flaming, and jaw was tight, and he leaned in until his temple touched Ari’s. Ari shivered at the contact and the proximity and went perfectly still, afraid Chris would pull away if he moved. “Ari…” Chris murmured, his voice rough like sandpaper. His thumb stroked back and forth against Ari’s thigh, now, light and gentle, and just that little touch was driving Ari insane. Chris exhaled, his breath warm against Ari’s cheek. “Sweetheart, I can’t.”

Ari whimpered. His stomach clenched, tight and almost painful. He wanted to reach out for Chris’s body and tilt his chin until their lips met and crawl into Chris’s lap, but he was still too scared to move.

“You have no idea,” Chris continued, his voice even lower than before, “how much self-control it’s taken not to touch you these past few months.” His fingers slid into Ari’s hair, and Ari shuddered. “You want more than what I can give you, baby.”

At the moment, Ari didn’t care about any of that. He just wanted to be touched, and he wanted Chris to be the one to touch him. He turned his head until his nose brushed against Chris’s, and parted his lips, hesitating. Chris’s jaw was clenched tightly and his eyes were dark, and Ari couldn’t stand it.

He pressed his mouth against Chris’s, shivering as the stubble on his jaw rubbed at Ari’s skin. Chris gave a low, frustrated sound at the back of his throat and he reached out with both hands, taking hold of Ari’s face. Ari moaned outright; he couldn’t help it. He stroked Chris’s tongue with his own and pressed closer against Chris’s body, relishing how warm he was. He’d missed this contact so, so much.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Chris muttered, breaking the kiss. He drew back, rubbing a hand over his chin. “Ari, darling, please…I can’t do this.”

Ari struggled to catch his breath, his brain still fogged with arousal and leftover warmth from Chris’s touch. “I’m sorry,” he said, breathless. “I’m sorry, Chris.”

Chris shook his head. “No,” he said, “don’t apologize.”

Ari stared at the floor, humiliated. For a long, strained moment, neither of them spoke. Ari’s body was still throbbing with arousal and he pressed his hands over his lap in a desperate attempt to hide it.

Finally, Chris sighed. “I think it’s best if I leave for the night,” he murmured.

He took his notebook and headed for the door. It clicked shut softly behind him and Ari pressed his hands over his face, a low groan muffled by his palms.

* * *

“Dude, you look like shit.”

Ari glared in Landon’s direction. The two of them were sitting at the kitchen counter Wednesday morning, and Ari was on his third cup of coffee already. He’d barely slept last night—he was supposed to meet with Chris today, and it had been over a week since they’d last seen each other.

Ari had never been so embarrassed in his life. He was drunk, and horny, and he’d thrown himself at Chris without thinking about the consequences. “Thanks,” Ari said, sipping his coffee. “You look great too.”

Landon raised his eyebrows. He tossed his empty cereal bowl into the sink. “I know you’ve been up until two a.m. all week, man,” Landon said. “You need to ease up on this thesis. It’s going to kill you.”

Ari shrugged. “Winter break is coming up soon,” he said. “I have to finish a full draft before I leave.”

“You _have_ to?”

“If I don’t, I’ll be scrambling next semester,” Ari said. He drained his coffee and set down his cup. He grabbed his backpack off the floor. “I have class at eleven. I should get going.”

“You want a ride to campus?”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll see you later.” Ari made a break for the door, before he could blurt out something stupid.

He was supposed to meet with Chris at ten, an hour before his first class. Ari paced in front of Chris’s door for nearly ten minutes, his heard pounding against his ribs and his mind racing as he tried to think up something to say. He wished he could write down what he wanted to say and memorize it, but either way he knew his mind would go blank anyway once he started to talk.

By the time he pushed the door open finally he was nearly ten minutes late. Chris was sitting behind his desk with the sleeves of his button-down rolled up to his elbows, and he looked so good that it made Ari’s stomach twist. Chris glanced up when he heard the door open, and he smiled briefly in greeting.

“Morning, Ari,” he said. “Have a seat. I just need a moment to send off this email.”

Ari closed the door and sat across from Chris, pressing his hands into his lap like that would prevent him from doing something stupid with them. Chris kept his gaze fixed on his computer screen for a few more moments, and then clicked send and closed the laptop, turning to face Ari. Ari’s heart pounded harshly.

Chris’s expression was utterly relaxed. He raised his eyebrows at Ari’s expression. “You’re red as a tomato,” he said quietly.

Ari widened his eyes and pressed his hand against his cheek. Sure enough, his skin was on fire.

Chris smiled gently. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Ari,” he said. “It’s all right.”

Ari shook his head harshly. “Chr—Professor Hadley, I—what happened at my apartment was—” He ground his teeth together in frustration. He was tripping over his words just like he’d expected to, like his tongue was determined to betray him. “I’m sorry for just jumping on you without explanation like that. I was drunk, and I wasn’t thinking, and I—” He covered his face with both hands. “It was so stupid.”

“Ari…” Chris’s voice was soft. “Please don’t apologize. You don’t have anything to apologize for. If anything, I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

Ari raised his head, blinking in confusion. “Huh?”

“I shouldn’t have come to your apartment in the first place, even if it was only supposed to be professional. Considering our history, I should have insisted upon meeting here instead. And I certainly shouldn’t have kissed you back.” Chris sighed and folded his hands on top of his desk. “Perhaps I should look into transferring you over to another advisor, Ari.”

“What?” Ari said. “Chris, no—”

“Ari, after what happened last night, it feels unethical to continue working with you,” Chris said.

“Yeah, but…” Ari hesitated. He’d been afraid of this. “Chris, I don’t want to switch advisors in the middle of the year. That’s exactly what I was trying to avoid when I started working with you.”

Chris rubbed his forehead. “Ari,” he groaned.

Ari swallowed. Guilt pressed at his throat. “Chris, last night was my fault, not yours,” he said. “I knew that would happen if I invited you over here, and I did it anyway.” He swallowed again, as though it would force his voice to remain steady. “I’m sorry. I can’t believe I just _did_ something like that.”

Chris tapped his fingers thoughtfully against the desk counter. “It’s been a long, difficult year, Ari,” he said slowly, like he was choosing his words carefully. “It’s been…more challenging than I expected, keeping my distance from you. But I made a promise to give you your space, I don’t want to break that promise again. You deserve more than that.”

Ari lowered his eyes. His face felt hot. “Maybe I don’t want to keep my distance anymore,” he mumbled.

Chris raised his eyebrows. Ari’s face went hotter.

“Chris, I…I know you don’t feel the same way about me as I do about you,” Ari said. “And that’s fine. But it’s been a hard year for me too, and I…” He hesitated. “Maybe we don’t have to stay away from each other anymore, not completely.”

“Ari…” Chris’s gaze was sharp, intense. “You don’t know what you’re asking of me.”

“Chris, I—”

“I can’t give you what you want me to,” Chris continued, cutting Ari off. “I can’t, Ari. You think you want this, but I know that you don’t. I won’t let myself take advantage of you, no matter how difficult it’s been to keep my distance.”

Ari swallowed for a third time. His throat was very tight. “So, you’re going to transfer me, then?” he said. “That’s it? We’re just going to go back to being strangers to each other?”

Chris exhaled, raising his eyes briefly to the ceiling. “No,” he said finally. “I won’t transfer you. But we need to set some ground rules.” His gaze was intense again. “We only meet on campus, and no physical contact. Otherwise, I fear things will get out of hand again.”

Ari’s stomach sank. “So,” he said, “you just…won’t touch me ever again?”

Chris’s expression was hard. “No,” he said.

Ari had never really been rejected like this, not so outright. It hurt, sharp and fierce at the center of his chest. He lowered his gaze to his knees, hoping the hurt wasn’t showing on his face.

“I want you to try and put yourself out there, Ari,” Chris said, and his voice had gentled. “Meet new people. Have new experiences. Go on some dates. I think you’ll surprise yourself with what might happen.”

Ari closed his eyes briefly. He didn’t want to date more pretentious grad students and failed musicians. He didn’t want to keep mindlessly swiping through dating apps and relying on his imagination when he needed sexual release. But Chris seemed to have made up his mind, and the sharp feeling of rejection settled itself deep in Ari’s body, cold and acrid.

“I sent you a new draft of my thesis,” Ari muttered. He stood, taking his backpack with him. “Take a look and send me your notes.”

Chris nodded. “You’ll have them by Friday,” he said.

Ari slung his backpack over his shoulder. He gathered his pride, and left Chris’s room, forcing himself not to look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank u for reading <33333  
> Let me know what you think!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a short chapter this week, but the next one is pretty hefty. As always, would love to hear your thoughts!

For the rest of the semester, Ari tried his best to do what he was supposed to.

He worked on his thesis. He spent late hours in the library, bent over his laptop until his eyes hurt from the light. He made time to hang out with Landon, studying and watching Netflix and going out for drinks with friends. And he went on dates—lots of them.

He met guys for coffee and for dinner and for drinks. He scheduled dates for nearly every weekend, and all of them were boring. Ari always found himself not attracted to the guys he went out with, or not interested in what they were talking about, or he chickened out before the relationship could go anywhere. But he kept trying.

He wasn’t sure what he was hoping to happen. Maybe part of him was hoping he’d make Chris jealous. Maybe he wanted to prove Chris wrong, show he was trying to date and it wasn’t working out. Or maybe he really was trying to find someone who would finally replace Chris’s presence in his head.

No matter how many dates he went on, Ari found himself fantasizing about Chris once he was alone in bed, picturing his hands and his expression and his mouth. He was pathetic, and he really tried not to, but porn just didn’t light a fire in his belly the way thinking about Chris could.

“Man, are you trying to start a cult or something?” Landon said one afternoon while he and Ari were getting coffee. They stepped into line at their favorite place, a local shop with eclectic art on the walls and exposed brick beside the doors. “You’re going to swipe through all of Tinder at this rate.”

“Are you trying to slut-shame me?” Ari said, checking his phone. He had class in a couple hours, but he was determined to get some work done before then. He always felt like he was fighting for extra time, struggling to get everything done before his self-imposed deadlines.

“I think _slut-shaming_ implies that you’re having a lot of sex,” Landon said. “Which, unless you’ve been very secretive about it, I don’t think you have been.”

“You don’t know me,” Ari said. “I could be having sex all the time and you’d have no idea. Maybe I’m even having sex right now.”

“Dude, we live together,” Landon said. “You’ve been home every single night, working on your thesis, and you never spend the night at anyone else’s place. Unless you’re boning someone in the library stacks, you’re not getting laid.”

“Cool,” Ari said. “How long have you been stalking me, exactly? Do you have a calendar tracking my comings-and-goings?”

“Shut up.” Landon tugged Ari to the front of the line. “I know you can hear me and Bethany whenever we go at it. Those are the only times you break out the noise-cancelling headphones. You can’t avoid those things when you live with someone.”

Landon ordered a large Americano without missing a beat, and Ari smiled briefly to himself. Chris’s voice echoed in his head— _by your senior year you’ll be drinking straight espresso—_ and he shook himself off before his thoughts could spiral out of hand. “I’ll have a large vanilla latte,” he said to the barista, digging his wallet out of his backpack.

Now that it was coming up on finals week, coffee was the only thing really keeping Ari going. He drank four or five cups of it a day and his resting heart rate probably didn’t register as anything healthy anymore. He didn’t care—when he was hyped up on caffeine, he finally got everything done that he needed to.

“You’re finishing the semester in a very good place, Ari,” Chris said, a few days before campus would be shutting down for winter break. “I’m very impressed with the progress you’ve made.”

“Thank you,” Ari said. He leaned back in his seat, gazing at Chris from across the desk. “I’ve already picked my classes for next semester, so I might try and get ahead on the readings over break.”

“Don’t overexert yourself,” Chris said. “You have a tendency to burn out when you push yourself too hard. Make sure you’re trying to pace yourself.”

Ari rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

Chris smiled. He closed his laptop and reached for a folder at his elbow. “Do you have an idea of what you want to do after you graduate?” he asked.

“Not really,” Ari said. “I haven’t really had time to think about it.”

“If you’re thinking about staying in the area, I think this event next week might be beneficial to you,” Chris said. He slid a flyer across the desk. “It’ll be a great opportunity to network and meet some people who will be looking for college grads.”

Ari leaned in to look at the flyer. It was for a meet and greet next weekend with published authors and editors. _Free food and drink_ , the flyer said. “Okay,” Ari said. “Sure.” He paused, thinking. “Can I bring someone? I was supposed to go on a date that night.”

“Certainly.” Chris raised his eyebrows. “I’m glad you’re putting yourself out there, Ari.”

“It sucks,” Ari said. “I’ve been going out with grad students, and they all want to talk about the screenplays they’re writing and how subversive they are.”

Chris smiled. “I was that person when I was in grad school,” he said. “You never would have looked twice at me.” He closed his folder and reached for his bag. “I’m afraid I need to get going. But I’ll see you at the meet and greet next weekend.”

Ari texted Jason, his date for the weekend, and Jason seemed willing to shift their plans slightly. “I’ve never gone on a second date quite this weird,” he said on Saturday as they headed for the meet and greet. It was cold out, and Ari’s shoulders were hunched up by his ears. “But hey, free booze.”

“That was my thought, too,” Ari said. He smiled in Jason’s direction. Jason looked good—he was wearing a long, sharp coat and his black hair was carefully mussed around his forehead.

Ari genuinely liked being around Jason. They’d known each other at a distance for a while, and they got along well. Ari had fun when they were together, but secretly, he’d invited Jason to come with him tonight because he knew Chris would be at the meet and greet. Ari wasn’t sure if he’d even be able to make Chris jealous—Chris seemed too mature for that kind of thing—but Ari couldn’t keep himself from hoping.

He reached for Jason’s hand, entwining their fingers. Jason smiled at him and squeezed his hand.

The meet and greet was being held at a hotel conference hall, and it was crowded. Ari and Jason got some drinks and circulated, shaking hands and chatting with some authors and editors. Ari was distracted, searching the crowds for Chris, nervous and fidgety. He adjusted his clothes and hair, and was so tuned out that Jason had to repeat his name three times before Ari registered it.

“Are you okay?” Jason asked, when Ari finally snapped to attention. “You seem nervous.” He smiled. “I’m not making you nervous, am I?”

Ari almost laughed. He felt guilty, briefly—he was sort of using Jason, after all, even if Ari genuinely liked spending time with him. Ari was about to answer, but then two figures entered the room at the end of the hall, and Ari’s throat closed.

Chris had finally arrived, and he wasn’t alone. He was dressed in a sharp suit, a black jacket unbuttoned over a red button-down, his hair carefully swept back. Next to him was a handsome brown-haired young man, dressed equally well and laughing about something Chris had said to him. They paused in the entryway and the brown-haired man reached over to squeeze Chris’s arm.

Something unexpected flared to life in Ari’s stomach, something hot and prickly, like barbed wire curling into his body. It wasn’t the first time he’d felt like this, but it was different now. He couldn’t stake his claim anymore—he had no claim to Chris at all. He couldn’t do _anything_ , and it was infuriating.

Ari turned back to Jason, who raised his eyebrows, still waiting for an answer. Ari smiled and stepped closer, reaching for his hand and intertwining their fingers. “Maybe you do make me a little nervous,” Ari said. “You look really good tonight.”

Jason blinked once in surprise and then smiled back. “You don’t look too bad yourself,” he said. He jerked his head towards the table of food. “Want to try out some of those stuffed mushrooms? They look amazing.”

“I’d love to,” Ari said, taking hold of Jason’s arm and following him towards the table.

Ari knew he was laying it on a little thick, but Jason seemed to enjoy it. They stayed close to each other as they circulated, holding hands and smiling at each other. Ari even went so far as to feed Jason by hand and stretch up to kiss him on the cheek.

Chris didn’t seem to be paying much attention—he didn’t even seem to notice Ari at first. Their eyes finally met sometime late in the evening and Chris smiled briefly in greeting over his date’s shoulder. Ari didn’t smile back, just stepped closer to Jason and tightened his grip on Jason’s hand.

“You okay, Ari?” Jason asked, noticing Ari’s expression.

“Huh?” Ari glanced over and pasted on a smile. “Yeah, sorry. I’m just a little distracted.”

“You’ve been kind of distracted all night,” Jason said. “In fact, you didn’t seem like you wanted to be here at all, and then all of a sudden it was like you flipped a switch.” He frowned. “Is there something going on with you tonight?”

“What?” Ari said, his voice high-pitched and not convincing at all. “No, of course not. I really wanted you to come with me.”

Jason’s mouth twisted. “I don’t know, Ari. I think I might have to duck out for the night if that’s cool.”

“What? Jason, come on, we just got here.”

Jason smiled wanly and patted Ari on the arm. “I’ll text you later, okay?” he said.

He headed for the exit and Ari ran after him, bewildered. “Jason!” he called. Jason paused in the empty hall, turning to look at him. “Don’t just leave like that,” Ari said, a little breathless from running. “Look, I’m sorry. I know I’ve been all over the place. It’s just been a weird semester, that’s all.”

Jason pursed his lips. He shifted his feet a little, looking uncomfortable. “Look, Ari,” he said. “I’ll level with you. I know you’ve been dating around a lot this semester. I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, because you’re cute and you’re nice and everything, but you’re clearly trying to get something out of your system. I just don’t have time to deal with that right now—no offense.” He shrugged and half-smiled apologetically. “Good luck, though. I hope you figure out what you’re looking for.”

He turned and headed down the hall, pushing open the doors and disappearing outside with a gust of cold air. Ari groaned once he was gone and rubbed his hands over his face in frustration.

There was the sound of footsteps from behind him. A quiet voice said, “Are you all right, Ari?”

Ari turned. Chris had joined him in the hallway, his hands in his pockets and his expression curious. Ari glared at him, clenching his hands into fists. The last thing he needed was Chris’s look of pity.

“Leave me alone, Chris,” he said, trying to make his way past Chris and into the conference room. Chris caught his arm, stopping him.

“Ari, just talk to me,” Chris said. “What happened? You ran out of there so fast.”

Ari yanked his hand away. “Don’t touch me,” he snapped. To his humiliation, tears were already pressing against his eyes, and he couldn’t fight them back. “It’s your fault I’m making an ass out of myself like this. You told me to put myself out there and meet new people—well, I suck at it. And it’s all because of you.”

“Me?” Chris raised his eyebrows. “Why?”

“Because I can’t _fucking_ stop thinking about you,” Ari said furiously. “Because I had no idea what I was missing out on before I met you and now it’s all I can think about. All I want to do is get you out of my head, and I _can’t_.”

Chris sighed. “Ari…”

“And I was so stupid, thinking I’d make you jealous,” Ari continued, his voice tightening. “I was stupid thinking you still gave two shits about me in the first place. You never cared about me anyway, and—and then you show up here with someone else, and I—” He knew he was rambling. Before he could stop himself, though, Chris interrupted him.

He came closer, his hands gripping Ari’s shoulders. He pressed Ari against the wall of the hallway, his gaze fierce, his grip tight. Ari’s voice choked off and he stared in surprise; Chris’s face was so close that their noses were almost brushing, and something hot clenched in Ari’s stomach, something familiar and unbearable.

“You think I don’t get jealous?” Chris murmured, his voice suddenly low and rough. His hands tightened on Ari’s arms. “You think I’m past that? That I didn’t notice, every time that boy touched you and smiled at you and squeezed your hand? You think I wasn’t fighting the urge, every single time, to rip you away from him and pin you here, just like this, until you forgot about him completely?”

A shiver rippled up Ari’s spine. His arms pebbled with goosebumps.

“Never think I don’t care about you,” Chris continued, his voice going hoarse. “Never, ever think that. I ended things because I needed to, but that has nothing to do with how I feel about you.”

Ari swallowed. Chris smelled the same, and Ari just wanted to lean into his chest and inhale until the scent filled his lungs. “Then why?” he whispered. “Why did you?”

“Because you deserve better than me, darling,” Chris murmured. He reached up with one hand and his thumb dragged a slow line along Ari’s jaw. He exhaled, and his jaw went tight. “You think you’re the only one, Ari, but it’s killing me, staying away from you, thinking about other men touching you.”

A tiny sound caught itself at the back of Ari’s throat. Chris’s hand was holding his chin still and his face was so close, and Ari just wanted to ignore all of it and forget everything and taste the wine on Chris’s breath.

Chris sighed. He touched his forehead to Ari’s briefly and then, to Ari’s disappointment, dropped his hands and leaned away. “I’ll give you a ride home,” Chris said.

Ari rubbed a hand through his hair. He nodded jerkily, hoping his disappointment wasn’t too obvious on his expression. “What about your date?”

“Hm?” Chris frowned, confused. “Oh, the man I came in here with? He’s not my date—he’s a professor I’ve worked with in the past, we were simply catching up.” Chris raised his eyebrows, and smiled. “You thought he was my date?”

Ari glared at him. “Don’t.”

“That’s why you doubled down trying to make me jealous, wasn’t it?”

“Shut up.” Ari shoved past him. Chris chuckled, and followed behind him.

The drive home was quiet. Chris’s car was warm and the wine made Ari’s body feel relaxed; he leaned back in his seat and listened to the music playing on the radio, and he felt calmer. Everything with Jason didn’t seem too relevant anymore.

“Are you going to see him again?” Chris asked out of nowhere, after some time.

“Huh?” Ari said, looking over. “Who?”

“The boy you were with. With the black hair.”

“Oh.” Ari fidgeted. “I don’t know. He seemed pretty annoyed when he left.” He frowned down at his hands. “I was kind of just…using him. You know, to make you jealous.”

“Ah.” Chris flipped on his turn signal and pulled up to a red light. “That’s too bad.”

Ari shook his head. “I don’t really care anymore. I’ve been going on all these dates with all these guys, too many, and none of them feel right. They’re all pretentious, or self-centered, or they’re just not interesting.”

“All of them?” Chris said. He seemed surprised.

“Some of them are okay, I guess,” Ari said. “But I don’t want a relationship with someone _okay_.”

“Maybe you don’t really want a relationship at all?” Chris suggested, his voice quiet. “Perhaps that’s why all of these people have been unappealing?”

Ari hunched one shoulder. In the short term, yeah, maybe he just wanted to get laid, but eventually he did want something more than that. He wanted someone to come home to every day and curl up on the couch with and someone to comfort him after a bad day. The frustrating thing was that he’d already had most of those things with Chris before it had all fallen to pieces.

“You’d be saying differently if you met some of these guys,” Ari said, struggling to keep his voice light. “One of them talked for an hour about the novel he was writing. It was a story about a guy who stalks this girl and then blames her for refusing to date him. An _hour_ , Chris.”

Chris chuckled. “At least he wasn’t forcing you to read the book, I suppose.”

“Oh, he tried. He offered to email me the manuscript, claimed that agents would be fighting over the rights to it once he started sending it out. He called it the next American classic and compared himself to Earnest Hemmingway. I barely got out of there alive.”

Chris smiled briefly in Ari’s direction. “I dated men like that in college too,” he said. “But I promise they’re not all like that.”

“I know,” Ari said. “But after everything with…with you…” He looked out the window, hoping Chris wouldn’t be able to see the way his face was turning red. “Everyone else just feels like a replacement for you.”

Chris sighed. He pulled up to a stop in front of Ari’s apartment building. “I see.”

“I’m sorry.” Ari closed his eyes briefly. “I’m really trying, Chris. All I want is to get you out of my head, and I wish I knew how.”

“Ari…” Chris put the car into park and rubbed a hand at his forehead.

Ari gazed out the window. He could feel emotion pressing up against the back of his throat and he fought against it desperately so he could get the words out without crying. “I think I was falling for you, Chris,” he mumbled finally, without looking over. “And I know that’s not what you want to hear, but it’s the truth.”

Chris was silent. Ari finally glanced over and Chris’s gaze was fixed on him, pained. Ari smiled wryly. “So, that’s all,” Ari said, reaching for the handle of the car door and pushing it open. “I’ll see you after break, I guess.”

Ari—” Chris caught Ari’s wrist, stopping him halfway out the door. His jaw worked, like he was struggling to find words. Ari had never seen an expression quite like that on his face. “I wish I could give you what you want me to. I—I wish I could say what you want me to hear, but I—I just—”

“It’s okay.” Ari withdrew his hand. He was about to start crying soon, and he really didn’t want to do it here. “I understand, Chris.”

“You’ll find someone better, Ari. Someone right for you.”

“I don’t care about that,” Ari said. “I just want you.” He gave a brief, weak smile and slipped out of the car, stepping into the cold. The sound of the door shutting was loud in the ringing silence.


	13. Chapter 13

“You’re being a goddamn idiot, Chris.”

Chris glanced up from his whiskey, and squinted across the table at Micah. It was nearing the end of winter break—Micah was in town for a week or so, and Chris had offered to let him stay in his spare room for a few days. They were at Micah’s favorite bar, now, and it was getting late.

“Please,” Chris said tiredly. “Explain why I’m being an idiot.”

“You have this boy, who’s gorgeous and adorable and extremely available, and he’s fairly _begging_ you to take him to bed, and you just…won’t?” Micah leaned across the table, eyes wide and bewildered. “I mean, Chris, what is wrong with you? Do you know how many men would kill to be in your situation?”

Chris sighed. “You know it’s not that simple, Micah,” he said.

“Bullshit, it’s not. So what if you’re not in love with the boy, take him to bed anyway and tell him whatever he needs to hear. I mean, what are you _doing?_ ” Micah shook his head. “You haven’t gotten laid in over a year, Christopher. You’re not going to be young forever.”

“This isn’t about me needing to get laid,” Chris said, bristling. Not that it wasn’t part of it, of course—this past semester, it was like Ari was deliberately testing Chris’s self-restraint, parading around in those tight jeans and playing with his hair and blushing whenever Chris smiled at him. It was infuriating. “This is about Ari’s feelings. I don’t want to hurt him.”

“Oh, right, _feelings_ ,” Micah groaned. “Okay, fine. Let’s talk about _feelings_. Do you love this kid?”

Chris opened his mouth, closed it again. _Yes_ , was the honest answer, but for some reason the word wouldn’t pass his lips. Love was too big of a word, too many enormous implications, and he sincerely doubted Ari even meant it when he’d said it. Ari had never been in love before. He didn’t understand how messy and horrible and complicated it could be. He probably didn’t understand his own feelings in the first place, he’d just convinced himself that he was in love.

“Oh,” Micah said. “This is about Andrew, isn’t it?”

Chris sighed. “That was ten years ago.”

“Yeah, but it still fucked you up.”

Chris tapped his nails against the surface of the bar. His inability to express intimacy and vulnerability certainly had something to do with Andrew. Of course it did. But that was just another reason that Chris was not a suitable match for Ari.

“Ari deserves someone better for him,” Chris said. “Someone closer to his age, someone who’s suitable long-term.”

“Who says that can’t be you?” Micah leaned forward on the table. “Why are you self-sabotaging like this? Ari is capable of making his own decisions.” Micah shook his head. “Man, if you don’t get over yourself and snatch that boy up, I’m going to have to do it myself.”

Chris narrowed his eyes. “And you tell me I need to get laid.”

“Hey, at least I’m trying. It’s like you went into hibernation this year. It’s exhausting.” Micah ran his thumb along the edge of his empty glass. “You’ve had feelings for this kid for a long time, huh?”

Chris nodded dully. He’d also seen Ari’s feeling changing, and he should have ended things earlier, before it all got out of hand. Now he wasn’t sure if he’d even be able to fix things anymore.

He sighed and stood, tossing some bills on the tables for a tip. “Let’s get going,” he said. “I need to stop by campus before we head back to my place. I need some things from the library.”

Campus was still pretty empty—most of the students would be back tomorrow, when classes started again. The library had opened back up, however, so Chris stopped in and grabbed the textbooks he’d put on hold. “These for your classes?” Micah asked, looking at the book covers with distaste. “I don’t even know how to pronounce some of these words.”

Chris chuckled. “One of them is for a class,” he said. “The others are just for fun.”

“God, I will never understand you.” Micah handed the books back to Chris, but his gaze fell on something over Chris’s shoulder. A smile pulled at his mouth. “Hey. Familiar face over there.”

“Hm?” Chris tucked his books under his arm and turned, following Micah’s gaze. Ari was at one of the tables at the back of the library, bent over his computer, the table littered with books and papers and folders. His forehead was in one hand and the light from the computer screen illuminated dark circles underneath his eyes. Chris’s chest squeezed with worry.

Micah grinned. “I’m going to say hi,” he said, already stepping past Chris toward the table. Chris sighed and followed, resigned.

Ari glanced up in surprise, blinking. He looked from Micah to Chris, and his eyes blew wide. “Hey there, long time no see!” Micah said. He perched at the edge of the table and beamed. “Looking good, Ari. Senior year has been kind to you, I see.”

“Micah, what are you doing here?” Ari said blankly.

“Nice to see you too,” Micah said. He nodded his head towards Chris. “Professor Hadley over here offered to let me stay here for a few days.”

Ari twisted his fingers together. “Oh,” he said.

“He’s only here until the weekend,” Chris explained. “And to be fair, I didn’t exactly offer to house you, Micah. You invited yourself.”

“Yeah, but you know you wanted me to stick around.” Micah raised his eyebrows at the mess on Ari’s table. “Working yourself pretty hard, there?”

Ari sighed. “I’m trying to get ahead on my readings and stuff,” he said, gesturing vaguely to the papers strewn across the table. “And I keep rethinking my thesis. It doesn’t feel right.”

“Ari,” Chris said softly, “You need to remember to take care of yourself. The thesis will still be there tomorrow.”

Ari ignored him. He closed his computer and turned his attention back to Micah. “What made you decide to come to town?” he asked.

Chris sighed. He left the two of them alone and headed for the front desk.

Twenty minutes later, Micah came back to meet with Chris and they left the library. Micah looked very pleased with himself. “I get what you see in that kid,” Micah said. “Adorable, that one.”

“Did you talk about anything interesting?”

“Mm. I offered to take him out to dinner tomorrow night, and he said yes.”

Chris stopped walking. He blinked. “What?”

Micah turned back. He shoved his hands into his pockets and smiled, smug. “I warned you I’d snap the kid up if you wouldn’t make a move,” he said.

Chris stared, stunned. Micah had threatened to make a move on Chris’s love interests plenty of times in the past, but he’d never actually acted on it. Chris was speechless.

“I bet if I play my cards right I could get him to come home with me,” Micah said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “He’s probably pretty desperate, considering you haven’t fucked him in over a year.” His eyes glittered as he turned away. “You’ll have to give me the details about what he likes, just in case.”

He sauntered toward the parking lot. Chris followed in a daze, something hot and sharp twisting inside his body.

* * *

Campus was always insane on the first day of classes.

Chris was inundated with last-minute requests from his advisees, from other staff, from students who wanted to be waitlisted for his classes. Chris threw himself into the work, desperate to distract himself from the knowledge of Ari and Micah’s date later that night.

It made him feel sick, to think about it. He knew had no right to feel like that, but he did anyway.

He ran into Ari around midday, in Charleston Hall. Ari was clearly just leaving class, and he looked just as exhausted as he had the night before. He glanced up at Chris and then away again, like he planned to pass by without acknowledging Chris’s existence at all. Chris stopped him, however, blocking his way. “Ari,” he murmured, “are you actually going to go through with it—this date with Micah?”

Ari looked up. His eyes were sharp with exhaustion. “What do you care?” he said.

Chris’s chest squeezed. “Ari,” he said, “please.”

Ari sighed. He raised his eyes to the ceiling. “It’s just dinner, Chris,” he said. “And I have a right to go out with whoever I want. It’s not your business anymore.”

“I know that, Ari. But…Micah…” Chris closed his eyes briefly. “Why _him?_ ”

Ari shrugged dully. “I don’t know. Why not him?”

Chris let out a slow breath. He adjusted the strap of his bag over his shoulder. “Ari, are you sleeping?” he asked.

Ari looked away. He didn’t answer.

“You know you can’t push yourself this hard all semester. It’s not sustainable.”

Ari glanced up again. His gaze was hard. “Are you done?” he said. “I have another class to get to.”

Chris stepped aside. Ari shuffled past him, disappearing down the hall.

* * *

“Ari? Class is over.”

Someone was poking Ari in the arm. He jerked his head up, whipping around to look at his friend Carla. She was gazing at him in concern. “Did you just fall fully asleep?” she said. “Dude, it’s the first day of class. How are you already this burnt out?”

Ari rubbed his eyes. Students were filing out of the classroom and towards the front of the room to talk with the professor. Ari had never felt so exhausted; it ached in his eyes and his temples and somehow, bizarrely, in his limbs, too. Chris’s voice from an hour ago echoed in his head: _You can’t push yourself this hard all semester_.

Whatever. What did Chris know?

“Thanks, Carla,” Ari said, waving her off. He reached for his backpack. “I’m good.”

She looked doubtful, but she stood, taking her things with her. Ari followed her out into the hallway and dug his phone out of his back pocket. He planned to text Landon and ask if he wanted to get coffee or something, but a text notification from Chris stopped him. _Can we meet in my office?_ it said.

Ari frowned. He wondered if there was something wrong with his thesis. _Sure_ , he texted back. _I’ll be there in ten_.

As he headed across campus to Chris’s office, he contemplated cancelling his date with Micah. He hadn’t really wanted to agree in the first place, anyway—it had been a knee-jerk reaction for the most part. Maybe he wanted to make Chris jealous a little, too. Or maybe he just wanted to feel… _wanted_ , even if it was by someone like Micah.

Ari sighed. No, he would go. Free food was free food. He shook himself off as he stepped into Chris’s building, fighting to stay awake.

He knocked on Chris’s door, pushed it open. “Professor Hadley?” he said.

Chris was sitting behind his desk. He looked up when Ari entered. “Is there something we need to talk about?” Ari asked, closing the door behind himself and then crossing the room. “Is this about my thesis?”

Chris didn’t answer. He closed his computer and stood, crossing the room. He took Ari’s face in between his hands, and Ari tensed in surprise, finally registering the intense, desperate look on Chris’s face. Ari had never seen an expression like that on him before. He stared, his eyes going wide, but he didn’t move away.

“Ari…” Chris’s voice was soft. “Listen—please, don’t go out with Micah tonight.”

Ari blinked. “I—what?”

Chris rubbed his thumbs along Ari’s jaw and his hands were so warm, and Ari wanted so badly to just lean into them and forget all of his pride and frustration. “Come home with me tonight,” Chris murmured, and it sent a shiver straight up Ari’s spine. Ari’s stomach turned over and he wanted desperately to say yes, without even thinking.

Instead he shook his head. His chest was squeezing, too tight. “Chris…”

“Just to talk.” Chris held his chin firmly, not letting him pull away yet. “I know I don’t deserve to ask after what I’ve put you through, but I had to at least try.”

The tightness was in Ari’s throat now, choking him. He couldn’t breathe, and he was starting to worry he was going to cry. Chris’s thumbs were stroking his cheekbones now, warm and gentle.

“Ari…” Chris tilted his head. “This date with Micah…is that really what you want?”

Ari swallowed. He shook his head.

“Then just come talk with me,” Chris said. “Please, darling.”

Ari closed his eyes briefly. He wanted to refuse, just for a moment. But it was Chris, and Ari’s pride crumbled like it was made of wet clay.

“Okay,” he whispered, and Chris smiled, his shoulders relaxing. He let go of Ari’s face, and Ari’s skin tingled with leftover warmth.

“I just need to pack up,” Chris said. “I’ll drive us both.”

Chris’s house was warm and familiar. The moment Ari stepped inside, a wave of memory washed over him, and he spent a few moments just looking around in the middle of the entryway, gazing at the artwork and the soft lamplight.

“Is Micah here?” Ari asked, turning back to look at Chris.

Chris closed and locked the door. He shook his head. “He’s with a mutual friend tonight,” he said. He slid his jacket off his shoulders. “We have the house to ourselves. Don’t worry.”

Ari nodded. He felt nervous, all of a sudden, like it was the first night he and Chris had been alone together in this house. Ari’s heart was pounding.

“Ari,” Chris murmured. He came closer, looking concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I—I just—” Ari took a breath, trying to calm himself. He wrapped his hands around his ribs. “It’s nothing.”

Chris scrutinized him for another moment. “I really do just want to talk,” he said. “I promise I don’t have an ulterior motive for bringing you here. But if you’re uncomfortable, we can do this another time.”

Ari shook his head. “It’s okay,” he said. “I want to be here.”

Chris smiled reassuringly at him. He headed for the kitchen. “Let me make some tea,” he said. “I still have that hibiscus you like. It’ll only take a minute.”

Ari watched him go, fingers digging into his arms. He turned to follow Chris into the kitchen, his heart thundering against his ribs. “Chris,” he called, “wait, I—” He lurched forward and his fingers found Chris’s shirt, curling into the sleeve of his sweater. Chris turned back, but Ari couldn’t look him in the eyes. “Chris, I—I don’t think I can do this.”

There was a brief moment of silence. Chris turned to face him. “Ari,” he said.

Ari backed away, disentangling his fingers from Chris’s sweater. He rubbed his hands against his face, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I just—” He lowered his hands, taking another deep breath. “But being around you like this—pretending everything is normal, it—it _hurts_ , Chris, and I can’t do it anymore. I can’t just sit in your house and look at you and pretend I’m not falling apart. I _can’t_.”

“Ari…”

“Please, just don’t.” Ari shook his head, still refusing to look Chris in the eye. “I can’t even meet with you about my thesis without feeling _awful_ afterwards, because I want you so badly and I know that you don’t want me back, and I—”

“ _Ari._ ” Chris cut him off, his voice sharper than before. Ari looked up in surprise, falling silent, and Chris was already approaching him, reaching for him. His hands found Ari’s face, holding him still, and he bent his face down to Ari’s.

Ari froze, stunned. A shudder rippled through his body and for a moment he wanted to forget about all of it, all the hurt and the pride and everything else so he could just melt into Chris’s hands. Chris’s mouth was hot and wet and he tasted like the decaf coffee he had in the afternoons, and Ari’s legs went weak.

But he drew back, putting space between them, already out of breath. “Chris…”

“I love you, sweetheart,” Chris said, his voice quiet and rough. “Of _course_ I love you—why do you think I wanted to bring you back here to talk to you tonight?”

The tight feeling was back in Ari’s throat. “Don’t,” he said, his voice breaking embarrassingly. “Don’t, Chris. Not unless you mean it.”

“I know I’ve given you plenty of reasons not to believe me.” Chris pressed his lips against Ari’s throat, against the skin beneath his ear. “I know I made you wait so long, just because I couldn’t tell you how I felt. But I need you to know that I’m an option, if you still want me.”

Ari drew back to look Chris in the eyes. “You felt the same this whole time?” he said. “Even before?”

Chris nodded. “I’ve loved you for a long time, darling,” he said. “I should have told you much sooner. I understand if you’ve changed your mind.”

Ari stared at him, bewildered. “Changed my mind?” he said. “Are you crazy?”

Chris smiled. He moved, pressing Ari firmly against the wall of the kitchen, and they stayed there, tangled together. Chris stroked his tongue softly against Ari’s and Ari went lightheaded. “I couldn’t stand it,” Chris murmured, his lips making a trail down Ari’s jaw and his throat. “The thought of Micah touching you. I wanted to kill him for even trying to get close to you.”

He brought his mouth back to Ari’s, kissing him again. Ari whimpered and pressed closer, not close enough. “I wasn’t going to go through it,” he mumbled between kisses. “I was about to cancel when you texted me.”

“Hmm,” Chris sighed. His hands found Ari’s waist, fingertips dipping beneath the hem of his shirt. Even that tiny bit of contact had Ari’s whole body shivering. He was already turned on, a swell of pent-up arousal pressing at the edges of his body. Chris was barely touching him, and Ari couldn’t breathe.

“Ari…” Chris drew back, frowning in concern. His gaze, however, was hot and hungry, and Ari shuddered. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Ari panted. “Nothing, I just—”

“We don’t have to do anything,” Chris said. “We can just talk, like we were planning to.”

Ari shook his head insistently. He leaned into Chris’s hands and into his chest, and Chris lowered his head until his mouth pressed against Ari’s. His fingertips traced gentle circles against Ari’s skin and Ari whimpered, opening his mouth against Chris’s. Chris groaned, low, in response, and his hands drifted higher, brushing along the line of his back.

It was unbearable, the arousal was so sharp it was making Ari lightheaded. “Chris,” he panted, “I—I’m not going to be able to last very long if—”

“Shh. I know. I’m going to take care of you, sweetheart.”

Chris’s room was dark. He didn’t bother turning on the lights, focused instead on ridding Ari of his clothes, his jeans and then his t-shirt and then pausing to press kisses to Ari’s bare skin. Ari clenched his fingers in the sheets, dizzy with arousal, already too sensitive. If Chris’s fingertips so much as brushed his cock he was worried he’d come on the spot.

Chris sighed against Ari’s skin. His mouth was at Ari’s belly now, fingertips tracing teasing lines along Ari’s thighs. He smiled, his gaze hungry and dark. “Did you take care of yourself these past few months?” he murmured. “Did you use toys, maybe?”

Ari’s face went hot. He nodded jerkily.

Chris hooked his fingers in the edge of Ari’s boxer briefs. “Just relax, sweetheart,” he said. “I’m going to make you feel good.”

Ari had to fight just to hold on when Chris’s mouth teased him, licking gently at his cock. He pushed himself up on his elbows to watch, his chest heaving and toes curling in pleasure. Chris’s mouth was warm and wet and his eyes glanced up, heated, and Ari’s muscles bunched as he fought orgasm. “Chris,” he moaned, clutching desperately at the sheets. “I can’t—I _can’t_ —”

Chris paused. He exhaled against Ari’s inner thigh. “I _adore_ you, Ari,” he breathed. He reached for something, and then he pressed Ari’s thighs wider, his hands warm and firm. “It’s okay, darling. Just come.”

“N-no, Chris—” Ari broke off with a choked moan when Chris’s mouth surrounded him again, not teasing like before. His fingertips pressed, slick and warm, against his entrance, one sliding inside.

Ari’s arms went out from underneath him and his back bowed off the bed. “ _Chris_ ,” he wailed, and Chris just hummed in response. His fingers pumped in and out of Ari’s body, teasing his sweet spot until Ari was crying out, until his whole body seized with pleasure and he spilled into Chris’s mouth.

Chris worked him through it expertly, so, so good. Ari had never felt this wonderful. He huffed and tried to push himself up, his whole body shaking like his muscles had melted. The mattress creaked and Chris’s face appeared, hovering over Ari’s. Chris kissed him, slow and warm, settling between Ari’s legs. “Fuck,” Chris breathed. “You’re gorgeous, baby.”

Ari fought to catch his breath. He was still shaking, but he pushed gently at Chris’s chest, impatient. “My turn,” he whispered.

Chris settled against the pillows. Ari sucked him and enjoyed the ache of his jaw and the pressure against his tongue, shivering when Chris’s fingers curled into his hair. Chris tugged gently, firm and possessive, and Ari whimpered in response. “ _Fuck_ , look at you,” Chris murmured. “You’re such a good boy, Ari.”

Ari moaned. He shivered when Chris’s fingertips slipped lower, tracing gentle, teasing lines against his back. His eyelids fluttered, and Chris hummed, sounding pleased.

“Ari…” Chris tugged again at Ari’s hair, more insistent. “Come here, sweetheart.”

Ari glanced up, confused. He kept his mouth where it was, working his tongue against the underside, and Chris groaned. “Ari,” he said, voice low and rough. “Come _here_.”

Chris was clearly fighting to hold on, but he fucked Ari slow and deep and long, until Ari was on the edge of coming. Chris held him there, kissing his throat and his hair, smiling when Ari’s moans turned into sharp, desperate whimpers. “That’s right, baby,” he murmured, rocking his hips deep inside Ari’s body. He stroked Ari along with his movements, and Ari couldn’t believe how long he’d gone without this. “Let it come.”

Ari shuddered, hovering at the edge of orgasm for a few delicious, breathless moments before his body gave in and he spilled, again, all over Chris’s fingers. Chris groaned at the tightening of Ari’s muscles and his movements grew more erratic, until he was spilling too inside Ari’s body.

They came down tangled together, breathing hard. Chris’s fingers stroked through Ari’s hair, and Ari’s body tingled with leftover pleasure. “Fuck,” he breathed. “ _Chris_.”

Chris chuckled. “Good?” he murmured.

Ari exhaled, blissful. “So good,” he said. “So, so good. I missed you so much.” He raised his head, blinking. “I knew this would happen if I came back with you tonight.”

Chris smiled. “Is that so?”

“Chris, working with you this past year has been unbearable. All I’ve wanted was for you to touch me, but I couldn’t just admit that. I still had some self-respect.”

Chris chuckled again, kissing Ari’s jaw and his hair. “I’ll touch you as much as you want, sweetheart,” he murmured, trailing his fingers up and down Ari’s back. He sighed softly. “But a relationship—you know it’s going to be difficult. We’re going to have to continue to keep things private until you’ve graduated.”

“I know. That’s okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” Ari rested his head against Chris’s shoulder. “I really do love you, you know. I wasn’t just saying it.”

“Good. Neither was I.” Chris tightened his arms around Ari’s body. “And I love you for saying something first, even when you thought you were going to be rejected. It was brave.”

“No, not really,” Ari said. “It was just an impulse.”

“Regardless. I’m glad you did it.” Chris sighed into Ari’s hair. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long, sweetheart.”

* * *

Ari’s eyelids fluttered open. He smelled bacon cooking.

For a moment he just stretched his legs out in bed and sighed, pleasantly sore, warm. He rolled onto his back, gazing around Chris’s bedroom and smiling at the memory of the previous night. For a moment he panicked, sure he was going to be late to class, but it was Saturday.

Eventually he dragged himself out of bed and raided Chris’s dresser for clothes, pulling on a pair of boxers and a too-big sweatshirt. He followed his nose to the kitchen, where Chris was standing, shirtless, over the stove, making breakfast. Ari’s mouth watered.

Chris looked over and smiled at Ari. “Morning,” he said. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Yeah,” Ari said. “You made breakfast?”

“Of course. It’s the polite thing to do.” Chris flicked off the stove and arched an eyebrow. “Are you hungry?”

They sat at the dining room table to eat, and it was wonderfully familiar. “I’m glad you finally got some sleep,” Chris said. “Were you working on your thesis all break?”

Ari shrugged. “Sort of,” he said. “I was just trying to keep busy. I’ve been working a lot of shifts lately, too. I have no idea what I’m going to do after graduation, and I’m trying to save up money, so that it…scares me less, I guess.”

Chris nodded. “It’s frightening,” he said. “I know.”

Ari picked at the remnants of his food. He gnawed on his lower lip. “What made you change your mind?” he said. “I mean…I thought you didn’t…feel this way about me.”

“I’m sorry I let you think that, darling,” Chris said. He sighed, and leaned forward on the table, curling his hands around his cup of coffee. “I knew my feelings for you were getting out of hand a long time ago, but that wasn’t the deal we made, and I felt guilty for even acknowledging those feelings.”

“You did?” Ari frowned. “Why?”

Chris sighed. His gaze was distant. “There are a few reasons, I suppose,” he said. “I have a difficult time being vulnerable with others, Ari.” He paused and cleared his throat. “I had a partner when I was in college—his name was Andrew. It was a deeply abusive and toxic relationship, and it took me years to realize it. Because of that relationship, I haven’t felt good enough for anyone, and I’ve been extremely careful when entering new relationships. I always want to be completely sure that my intentions are good.”

“Oh,” Ari murmured.

Chris nodded. He sighed. “And my relationship with you was already so illicit, that adding a romantic aspect to it felt like I was asking too much of you. I had it in my head that I had somehow manipulated you into developing those feelings.”

Ari smiled. “That’s stupid,” he said.

Chris chuckled. “I know,” he said. “But I was your first long-term relationship, Ari. First relationships are always very intense.”

“Yeah, I know that.” Ari rubbed his thumb against his coffee cup. “I thought about that too.” He swallowed and curled his legs on top of his chair. “So…where does that leave the two of us?”

Chris raised his eyebrows. “Well,” he said, “I don’t want to try and stay away from you anymore. I know it might be difficult, being in a real relationship when we need to keep it a secret.”

“I’m okay with that,” Ari said. At Chris’s skeptical look, Ari glared. “Seriously, I am. I don’t want to stay away from you anymore either. Especially after last night, I—” He felt his face going hot. “I can’t just give all of that up again.”

Chris smiled. He set aside his coffee cup and beckoned. “Come here, baby,” he said.

Ari stood. He settled into Chris’s lap and tasted the coffee on his breath, shivering when Chris’s fingertips tickled against his ribs. He squirmed, and Chris chuckled. He tightened his grip, pulling Ari more firmly against him. “I think we have a lot of lost time to make up for, hm?”

* * *

Ari would have loved to spend all weekend at Chris’s house, but he had back to back shifts at work. He could barely focus during his shifts, buoyant, thinking about the night he’d spent with Chris. It was like relief was ballooning inside him, like that whole year of uncertainty and frustration hadn’t happened at all.

“Where were you all night on Friday?” Landon asked, suspicious, when Ari stopped into their apartment Sunday night. “You’ve been such a hermit for so long, I was actually kind of worried about you.”

“I was just with a friend,” Ari said. He dug his keys out of his backpack and tossed it onto the couch. “We got drunk, so I stayed in his apartment.”

“A _friend_ , huh?” Landon said, grinning. He nudged Bethany’s arm; she was sitting next to him at the kitchen counter, her laptop open in front of her. They were supposed to be doing homework, but a youtube video of cute animals was the only thing open on her screen. “What kind of friend? One of those guys you’ve been going out with, maybe?”

Ari shook his head. “They’ve all been boring,” he said. “I think I’m done with the apps for a while.”

“Okay, so where are you headed now?” Landon said, watching Ari pull on his jacket. “Another _friend?_ ”

“Landon, go easy on him,” Bethany said. “Maybe he likes to keep his sex life a secret. You could learn a thing or two from him.”

Ari smiled to himself. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” he said, heading for the door. “Have a good night, guys.”

Ari still had a spare key from when he was living in Chris’s house, so he let himself in and kicked off his shoes in the entryway. “Chris?” he called, heading into the living room, where he could hear the creak of footsteps.

He stopped at the entrance to the room, his stomach dropping out. It wasn’t Chris in the living room, but Micah. He was in the middle of zipping his suitcase closed, and he glanced up to smile at Ari in greeting. “Not to worry,” Micah said, getting to his feet and stretching. “I’m about to head out. My flight is in a couple hours.”

Ari nodded. He tugged off his jacket, draping it over his arm. “I thought you were Chris.”

“Professor Hadley is upstairs,” Micah said. He flopped onto the couch, draping his arm along the back, and smirked. “I see you two worked some things out, didn’t you?”

“Something like that,” Ari said. “Sorry I bailed on our dinner.”

“Oh, I didn’t really expect that to happen anyway,” Micah said. “I was just trying to get Chris to drag his head out of his ass. It worked even better than I expected it would.”

Ari’s eyebrows shot up. “You were—what?” he stammered. “Really?”

Micah’s smirk widened. “Are you really surprised?” he said. “I’ve known Chris for many years, and I know what gets under his skin. That man _adores_ you, and for some reason he insisted you were too good for him.”

Ari’s face went hot. “Oh,” he said.

A door closed upstairs. Ari could hear Chris’s footsteps as they descended the stairs, and then an arm slipped around his shoulders. “Is Micah bothering you, darling?” Chris murmured, pressing his lips against Ari’s hair.

“Yeah,” Ari said, leaning back into Chris’s chest. “Do me a favor and kick him out.”

Chris chuckled, and Micah rolled his eyes. “Whatever, I’m leaving anyway,” Micah said, heaving himself to his feet. “I’ll leave you two to _make love_ , or whatever it is couples do.”

Micah grabbed his bags, and headed out to catch an uber to the airport. Chris saw him off and then returned to the house; as soon as the door was closed he was taking Ari’s face between his hands and kissing him, warm and slow, again and again. Ari sighed with pleasure and leaned into him, tasting herbal tea on his tongue. Chris’s fingers stroked through Ari’s hair and when he finally drew back, Ari was panting and dizzy. Chris smiled at him, holding him steady.

“I missed you this weekend,” Chris said. He slipped his arms around Ari’s waist. “How was work?”

“Boring.” Ari pressed closer against Chris’s body. “I’m sorry I didn’t come around last night. Landon was already getting suspicious.”

“It doesn’t bother me if you want to tell him.”

Ari shrugged. “He probably wouldn’t say anything, but he wouldn’t let me hear the end of it if I told him the truth.” He tiled up his chin, and raised his eyebrows. “I talked to Micah. He had some interesting things to say.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“Apparently he only asked me out to make you jealous. He thought it would force you to get over yourself, and I guess he was right.” Ari tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. “Did you know that was his plan?”

Chris sighed in exasperation. “No,” he said. “But I believe it. That sounds like Micah.” He cradled Ari’s jaw, thumb stroking back and forth. “I suppose I shouldn’t complain. He was right, I was being stubborn.”

“Yeah, you were.” Ari pressed up on his toes until he could reach Chris’s mouth. “I think you promised you’d make it up to me.”

Chris chuckled. He kissed Ari back, dragging his fingers through Ari’s hair. “Be patient, darling,” he murmured, bending for Ari’s throat. His mouth lingered underneath Ari’s ear, and Ari shivered at the warmth of his breath. “I let you have what you wanted last time, but I’m going to take my time with you tonight.”

Ari was desperate to rid himself of the smell of coffee grinds and caramel syrup, first, so he made use of Chris’s bathroom. The bathroom back at his apartment didn’t have a bathtub, and Ari had missed it. He spent a good twenty minutes soaking, relaxing his tired muscles and his aching feet. He thought about what Chris might be planning to do with him and he shivered despite the warm water, his gut clenching and twisting into tight knots.

Eventually he couldn’t stand it anymore and climbed out of the bath, toweling off his hair and pulling on some warm clothes, sweatpants and a t-shirt. He headed to Chris’s room and Chris was sitting by the window with his organizer open in his lap as he sorted through a stack of papers. Ari hesitated in the doorway, his stomach tightening again. It was stupid, that he was feeling nervous after everything he and Chris had done together.

Chris looked him up and down briefly, smiled. He appeared completely relaxed, and Ari flushed under his gaze. “Do you need to finish what you’re working on?” Ari asked.

“No, this can wait.” Chris set aside his notebook, pushing off the couch. “Did you take a nice bath?”

“Yeah,” Ari said. His voice was a little unsteady. He fidgeted, restless, as Chris came closer. Chris’s hands slipped beneath Ari’s t-shirt, and he pulled Ari into a kiss. His grip was firm, and Ari melted underneath it, his legs shaking.

“You’re already trembling,” Chris murmured. “Are you all right, sweetheart?”

“I just—Chris, I—” Ari drew back, panting, struggling to remember his words. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to…to be patient.”

Chris chuckled. “Yes you will, darling,” he said. His voice was low and rough. “I’ll make sure you will.” His fingertips drew gentle circles against Ari’s back and a shiver raced up Ari’s spine. “Did you edge yourself this year, while you were alone?”

Ari shook his head. “I tried,” he said, his voice tight. “But I—I wasn’t—” He swallowed and his eyelids fluttered when Chris’s fingertips dragged higher along his spine. His skin felt too sensitive, like Chris’s hands were burning him. “It felt too good. I couldn’t stand it very long.”

Chris hummed, thoughtful. He brushed his mouth against Ari’s throat. “I suppose I’m just going to have to teach you have to be patient all over again, then, hm?”

Ari huffed, his whole body filling up with hot water. He leaned into Chris’s chest and tilted his chin up when Chris kissed him.

Chris hadn’t been lying about his plans to make Ari wait. He settled between Ari’s legs on the mattress and stroked his fingers in and out of his body, just barely teasing his cock until Ari was shaking and crying out and clawing at the sheets. Just when Ari was sure he couldn’t stand it anymore, Chris gripped his fingers in Ari’s hair and fucked him, rough and then slow and then rough again. Chris murmured praise every time he paused before Ari could come, and the praise washed over Ari’s skin like warm water.

Ari’s whole body throbbed with pleasure when orgasm finally seized him. Chris mumbled soft words to him and stroked his hair and worked him through it, until Ari was quivering and panting and overstimulated. It was too good. Ari didn’t deserve something this good.

Chris held him afterwards, letting Ari calm his breathing, kissing his forehead and his hair and stroking his back. “Did you like that, sweetheart?” he murmured.

Ari sighed and leaned into Chris’s shoulder. “How am I going to get any work done this semester?” he said. “All I’m going to want is this.”

Chris chuckled. He kissed the top of Ari’s head. “I know what you mean,” he said.

Ari raised his head. He blinked a few times, his brain still functioning a little slowly. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” he asked. “I mean, you know…being in an actual relationship? Are you sure it’s what you want?”

Chris smiled. He stroked gentle fingers through Ari’s hair. “I want you, Ari,” he said. “I can deal with the rest of it. We’ll work through it together.” He tilted his head. “Is that what you want, too?”

Ari’s throat tightened, and he nodded. He leaned down until his lips found Chris’s, and Chris hummed, holding him there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still have one more wrinkle planned before this story is over--stay tuned! ;)


	14. Chapter 14

“Ari,” Chris said, “darling, are you listening to me?”

Ari jerked his head up, blinking. He and Chris were sitting next to one another at Chris’s desk, and Chris was going over some notes on Ari’s thesis. They were nearing the halfway point of the semester, and Ari was in the final stages of his thesis. Ari’s computer was open in front of both of them, but Ari hadn’t even been looking at the screen for the past fifteen minutes.

“Sorry,” Ari said. “Sorry. I’m listening.”

Chris raised his eyebrows. “You’re distracted,” he said. “Are you working too hard, Ari? We can take a break.”

Ari shook his head. His face was reddening. “It’s not that,” he said.

Chris sighed, tapping his fingers against the surface of the desk. He’d expected it would be a little hard to focus for the rest of the semester—for both of them—but it was even more challenging than he expected. Ari had been spending nearly every night at Chris’s house, constantly pushing Chris’s self-restraint, whether he was intentionally doing it or not. “You’re so close with this, Ari,” Chris said. “I need you to focus.”

“I know,” Ari said. “I’m trying. I am.”

Chris smiled wanly. He closed Ari’s laptop and stood. “I have a faculty meeting to get to anyway,” he said. “I suppose we can call it quits for the afternoon.”

Ari sighed and pushed himself to his feet. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know I haven’t been making enough progress.”

Chris considered him, thoughtful. Perhaps because of the year of separation, Ari had seemed particularly insatiable these past few weeks. Chris was finding it difficult to get work done, when he would much rather give Ari everything and anything he wanted. Moreover, Ari was beginning to fall behind in his work, just when he needed to push forward most aggressively.

“You’ve been working very hard, sweetheart,” Chris said, reaching for him, cradling Ari’s face with both hands. “I just don’t want you to lost concentration at the last minute.”

“It’s not intentional,” Ari said, leaning his cheek into Chris’s palm. “I’m just sick of working on this.”

“I know.” Chris held Ari’s face still, bent down to kiss him. Ari sighed and leaned into him and Chris smiled, slipped his hands beneath Ari’s shirt to brush his fingers along Ari’s ribs. Ari squirmed in response, ticklish. “Have I been distracting you too much?” Chris said, letting his mouth trail along Ari’s jaw. “Do I need to stop touching you for a little while?”

“What?” Ari said, breathless. “Chris, no—”

“Then I need you to focus, baby.” Chris nipped at Ari’s throat. “Can you do that for me?”

Ari sighed. “I’ll try,” he said.

Chris smiled. He brought his mouth back to Ari’s and kissed him again, and again, tasting the vanilla coffee on Ari’s tongue. “Come to my place for dinner tonight,” he said as he drew back, rubbing his thumb against Ari’s lower lip. “We can keep working then.”

Chris cooked dinner for both of them that night and he and Ari poured over the new draft of Ari’s thesis. “I still don’t know about the conclusion,” Ari said, leaning over his computer, squinting at the screen. “It doesn’t feel like I said everything I need to say.”

“Hm,” Chris agreed. “I wrote down some notes about that. Did you take a look at them?”

Ari nodded. “I didn’t really understand some of what you said,” he said, reaching for his backpack. “Let me find them.”

The two of them worked until it was late. When Ari was rubbing his forehead and yawning, Chris suggested they call it quits for the night. “I know you’re sick of going over this all the time,” Chris said as he and Ari did the dishes. “You’re doing a wonderful job, Ari. Really.”

Ari just hunched a shoulder. “It’s okay, I guess,” he said. “I never feel like I’m doing enough.”

“You need to stop doubting yourself. You’re questioning all of the work you’ve done on your thesis, so you’re avoiding working on it. You’re making excuses.” Chris reached for a towel to dry his hands. “You’re so talented, darling. And you’ve put in so much work. Don’t let it all go to waste.”

Ari lowered his eyes. He hesitated. “But what if I can’t cut it?” he said. “After I graduate, I mean. What if I think I can do all this, and it turns out I—that I—”

“Ari.” Chris stepped closer and reached for Ari’s face, taking it between his hands. “Baby. I know what you’re capable of. It’s normal to be frightened about that sort of thing, but you wouldn’t have made it this far if you weren’t smart and talented.”

Ari relaxed a little. He leaned into Chris’s touch. “I don’t know how you manage to be so focused all the time.”

Chris chuckled. “Is that what you think?” he said, stroking his thumbs along Ari’s jaw. “Ari, it’s been a constant struggle for me.”

Ari blinked. “Really?” he said.

Chris smiled at him. “I spent months staying away from you, and it drove me crazy,” he said. “You think I don’t want to just ignore everything else now and spend all my time with you?”

Ari’s face went red. “Oh,” he said.

Chris leaned in and kissed him slowly, until Ari sighed and leaned into him. Chris hummed, dragging his fingers along Ari’s neck, playing with the soft strands of hair there. He brushed his lips beneath the shell of Ari’s ear. “You made such good progress tonight, darling,” he murmured, and Ari shivered. “Should we take a little more time, iron out some more details?”

Ari groaned. He leaned into Chris’s shoulder, clutching his fingers in Chris’s shirt. “Chris,” he whined.

Chris chuckled. He tugged gently at Ari’s hair. “I’m just kidding, sweetheart,” he said. He tilted Ari’s face back up. “Come here.”

Ari huffed but kissed him back, reaching up to wrap his arms around Chris’s neck. “You’re so annoying,” he mumbled between kisses.

“Hmm. Careful, or I won’t fuck you.” Chris tugged gently at Ari’s waist, leading him towards the stairs. “Come on. Let’s go to bed.”

* * *

“As a final part of my thesis, I built upon this original idea of identity and fluidity, and created this visual aspect to my presentation,” Ari said. He gestured to the screen behind him. “This is meant to explore the way identity shifts within each of these novels, and how those concepts have changed within these different time periods.”

It was May, and Ari was giving his final presentation on his thesis. This was traditional for seniors at Greenfield—they would describe their final project to a select group of professors within their chosen major. In this case, half the literary department was in a small lecture hall to listen to Ari’s presentation, and Chris was sitting in the middle of them.

Ari was clearly trying not to look in Chris’s direction too much, but he glanced at Chris briefly as he switched slides on his presentation and Chris smiled at him, hoping to appear reassuring. Chris had been a little worried about this presentation—Ari wasn’t huge on public speaking, and he’d been nervous about this for the past couple days. Chris had worked with him closely on the presentation, listening to it over and over while Ari practiced, but Ari remained anxious that he would mess up or miss something.

“It doesn’t have to be perfect,” Chris had tried to reassure him. “You know this project backwards and forwards, darling. You know exactly what you want to talk about, just let it flow naturally and it will sound just fine.”

Ari’s fears—as well as Chris’s—appeared unfounded now. Ari seemed unaware of the eight pairs of eyes fixed on him, perfectly relaxed and confident as he went through the different aspects of his project. Pride swelled in Chris’s chest.

“Was there anything in particular that inspired this project?” Professor Amez asked after Ari was done. “Any novel you read that led to this idea?”

“It was actually something I read in Professor Hadley’s class,” Ari said, gesturing towards Chris. “We read _Middlesex_ and talked about these same things, comparing the protagonist’s journey to their grandparents’ story. I was really interested in the parallels we drew when we discussed the book, and the discussion of gender and sexuality, too.”

Chris smiled. He remembered Ari’s _Middlesex_ essay, actually, because it had been Ari’s strongest essay by far. It was that essay that had allowed Chris to see Ari’s potential as a writer and a literary analyst.

“Was there anything particularly challenging about this project?” Professor Lindon asked. “Is there anything you would have done differently, if you were to do this project again?”

Ari hesitated. He tugged briefly at the hem of his shirt. “I don’t know if I would have done anything differently,” he said. “I’m happy with the subject material I chose, and how it turned out. If I did it again, I might try to balance my time better. But that’s…well, that’s always been an issue for me, so it’s nothing new.”

There were a couple chuckles at that. Ari glanced nervously in Chris’s direction again. Chris had actually been impressed with how Ari had handled his time, towards the end of this project. He’d still struggled, of course, but he’d put every bit of focus into the final push and he hadn’t allowed himself to be distracted. His work really reflected that focus and effort.

“Well, this was very impressive, Ari,” Professor Amez said. She was smiling—she didn’t smile often, but she loved to see students succeed. “You should be proud of the work you’ve done.”

Several others nodded in response. Ari’s face reddened. “Thank you, Professor,” he said.

Professor Amez glanced over at Chris. “Professor Hadley?” she said. “Any final thoughts?”

Chris tapped the edge of his pen against his notebook thoughtfully, gazing out at Ari. Ari shifted his feet under the scrutiny, as though nervous again. “I think this project has come a long way from where it started,” Chris said finally. “It became much more complicated than either of us anticipated it would, I think, but Ari handled every new wrinkle with a great deal of tact and focus.” Chris smiled. “I agree with Professor Amez. You should be proud of what you’ve accomplished.”

Ari’s face went red again. He relaxed and smiled back.

Chris lingered while the other members of the staff filed out of the room. Professor Amez paused to chat briefly with him and they discussed the staff meeting next Friday. She finally waved goodbye and Chris headed to the front of the room to meet Ari, who was busy packing up his things into his backpack.

Ari glanced up and smiled when he saw Chris approaching, but Chris didn’t give him a chance to speak. He reached for Ari’s face with both hands, bending down to kiss him. Ari tensed for a second in surprise but then leaned into him, kissing him back.

“I’m so proud of you, darling,” Chris said, pausing briefly. “You did a wonderful job.”

“Really?” Ari said. “It was okay? I was so nervous—I just completely checked out and didn’t let myself think.”

Chris shook his head. “It didn’t come across that way at all,” he said. “You seemed confident and relaxed. You worked so hard on this, sweetheart.” He bent down to kiss Ari again, harder this time. Ari shivered and allowed himself to be backed against the edge of the table, his hands clutching at Chris’s shirt.

Chris kept him there, kissing him again and again until Ari was trembling and breathless. “We should celebrate tonight,” Chris said when he finally drew back. He smiled and hooked his hand beneath Ari’s chin, thumb resting against his lower lip. “Anything you want. You deserve it.”

Ari’s face brightened. “Really?” he said. “Anything?”

Chris nodded. He stroked his thumb along Ari’s jaw. “I have a few more meetings to run to this afternoon,” he said, “but I’m done at four. I’m all yours after that.”

Ari leaned forward, reaching for Chris’s mouth again. Chris sighed, slipping his arm around Ari’s waist, kissing him long and slow and warm. When he finally pulled away, reluctantly, Ari’s face was flushed and his eyes were dazed. Chris briefly considered cancelling all his meetings and taking Ari home with him right now, but his sense of responsibility ultimately won out.

“I’ll see you in a few hours, darling,” he said, stepping back. He smiled and headed for the hallway.

* * *

There was a knock at Chris’s door and he glanced up, surprised. It was only three-forty, and he wondered if Ari had simply gotten impatient and had appeared at Chris’s office early. “Come in,” Chris called.

It wasn’t Ari who stepped inside, but Nadine Amez. Her expression was strange, her gaze unusually sharp. She usually was pretty intense, but she was frowning at him like she was about to impart some very bad news. “Chris,” Nadine said, “can I have a word?”

“Certainly,” Chris said, raising his eyebrows. He closed his computer. “Please, sit down.”

Nadine perched herself at the edge of a chair, crossing her legs. She was scrutinizing Chris’s face, but she didn’t speak for a long, unsettling moment. She sighed, then, and raised her gaze to the ceiling. “I want to give you the benefit of the doubt,” she said. “And I didn’t want to come in here full of accusations. But…Chris…” She sighed and rubbed her forehead. “God, I don’t know what you’re thinking.”

Chris frowned at her. “Nadine, what are you talking about?” he said.

She folded her arms. Her gaze was sharp again. “I went back to the lecture hall to look for my pen,” she said, “and instead I found you and your advisee wrapped around each other.”

Chris’s stomach dropped out, settling like a rock in his body. He opened his mouth, fully prepared to deny it, but he stopped. She’d _seen_ them. There was no denying this away, not when she’d actually seen them. He closed his mouth and sighed, folding his hands on top of his desk. “All right,” he said. “What would you like me to say, exactly?”

Nadine narrowed her eyes at him. Her mouth was pressed in a thin line. “How long has this been going on?” she asked.

Chris tapped his finger against the surface of his desk. “A while,” he said finally. “On and off.”

Nadine nodded briskly. Her jaw tightened. “So,” she said, “that’s why you asked to be his advisor? Because you wanted to get in his pants?”

“No,” Chris said. He leaned forward. “No, not at all. At the time, we weren’t seeing each other at all—we were actively trying to stay away from each other. I didn’t expect this to happen, but I…” Chris sighed. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but I…I’m honestly in love with him.”

Nadine groaned. She rubbed her hands at her face. “Oh, _Chris_.”

Chris sighed. He should have prepared for this, really. He should have come up with some way to explain, but his mind had gone blank. There wasn’t an excuse, really. He’d already known what he was doing was amoral. “I didn’t intend for it to get out of hand,” he said. “I wouldn’t have done anything if Ari hadn’t expressed interest.”

“You shouldn’t have done anything anyway, you _idiot_ ,” Nadine said. She’d lowered her hands and was glaring at him. “Are you honestly going to try and blame that kid for your complete lack of self-restraint? He’s your _student_ , and you’re _fifteen_ _years older than him_.” Her eyes narrowed. “Do you know what will happen if the administration finds out about this? His entire thesis might be thrown into question. And do you really think you’ll keep your job when they find out you were sleeping with your own advisee? Ari’s family could even file a lawsuit against the school.”

Chris clenched his hands around each other. “I assume you’re planning on explaining the situation to the administration, then?”

“I’m a mandatory reporter, Chris. I think I might be obligated to, even in a situation as strange as this one. But I wanted to speak with you first.” Nadine shook her head. “Honestly, Chris. What is wrong with you? There weren’t enough eighteen-year-olds at other schools you could have pursued?”

“It wasn’t like that,” Chris said, bristling. He knew he didn’t have much of an excuse for his actions—he’d pursued what he’d wanted, and there wasn’t much beyond that. Now that his feelings for Ari had swelled, however, he felt the need to defend their relationship. He’d tried to do the right thing. He’d tried to let Ari go, and he hadn’t been able to. “I know it wasn’t the most morally reputable thing in the world, but I honestly care about him. I always did. It wasn’t just out of a desire to sleep with someone.”

Nadine folded her arms, still glaring at him. “I know that Ari was of age when you met,” she said. “And I know he’s about to graduate. But I’m not sure I’ll be able to just let this go.”

Chris stared in horror. “Do you think I would ever have pursued Ari if he was under eighteen?” he said.

“I don’t know,” Nadine said, throwing up her hands. “I feel like I don’t know _what_ you would do anymore.”

Chris closed his eyes briefly, struggling to calm himself. “So,” he said. “What are you going to do, then?”

“I don’t know,” Nadine said. “I haven’t decided.” She tapped her fingers against her arm. Her nails were long and sharp and dark blue. “I need to think about it.”

Chris sighed. “I imagine you’re going to want to talk to Ari,” he said.

“I suppose I should,” Nadine said. “It would be helpful to hear his side of things.” Her brow furrowed. “You said it’s been going on for a while, on and off. But when did this actually start?”

Chris hesitated. He considered bending the truth, just so he seemed a little more reputable, but he worried that Ari would tell the truth and then they would be right back to where they started. “The summer after Ari’s freshman year,” he said. “That’s when it started. We were together for about a year, and then we called off our relationship briefly. We began seeing each other again a couple months ago.”

“I see.” Nadine’s expression was just as hard as it was before. “So, you waited patiently until he wasn’t your student anymore, and then you decided to scoop him up?”

Chris groaned. He rubbed a hand over his mouth. “It wasn’t like that,” he insisted. “I wasn’t waiting for anything, I just—” He broke off, pressing his fingers into his temple, where a headache was forming. It probably didn’t matter how he explained this. No matter what he said, Nadine wouldn’t believe him, and to be honest he couldn’t blame her. “What would you like me to do, Nadine? Would you like me to end things with him again?”

“I don’t _want_ you to do anything,” Nadine said. “I just wanted to know the truth.” She stood up, smoothing down her skirt. “Ari is graduating in a couple weeks, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” Chris said. “I wish you would wait to bring this to the administration until he has his degree. But I suppose I’m not in a position to ask for favors.”

“I’ll think about it,” Nadine said. “Give me a few days to consider it. I need to figure out whether I’m obligated to report something like this.” She tugged Chris’s door open. “Have a good evening, Professor Hadley.”

She closed the door behind herself, and Chris leaned forward, resting his face in both hands.

* * *

“Chris?” Ari said. “Is something wrong?”

Chris lifted his head, blinking. Ari was frowning at him across the restaurant table; his spoon was hovering over the dessert they’d been sharing, and his eyes were full of concern. Chris had barely touched dessert, even though it was chocolate lava cake, which was usually his favorite. He was too distracted.

He hadn’t told Ari about his conversation with Nadine Amez, and the guilt of it stuck at the back of his throat. This was Ari’s night, and they were supposed to be celebrating, and Chris couldn’t ruin all of that for him. So he smiled reassuringly, and reached for his spoon. “Nothing’s wrong, darling,” he said. “Don’t worry.”

Ari’s frown deepened. “Are you sure?” he said. “You’ve been so quiet all evening—did something happen?”

Chris shook his head. “It’s just been quite a day,” he said, He spooned up some of the cake, and held it out across the table. “This is about you, Ari. Don’t worry about me.”

Ari leaned forward and let Chris slip the spoon into his mouth. “You’d tell me if you were upset, though, right?” Ari said after he’d swallowed. “Like, if I’ve done something wrong?”

“You haven’t done anything wrong, sweetheart,” Chris said. “But I’d tell you, of course I would.” He took a bite of dessert and sighed. “Mm. It’s been so long since I’ve been here, I forgot how delicious everything is.”

Ari smiled, his expression relaxing a little. “It was a good choice,” he agreed. They’d gone to one of Chris’s favorite restaurants, an upscale French place where dishes were small and expensive. Ari had protested, but Chris had insisted. Ari deserved something nice tonight.

“Do you have something else planned?” Ari asked, tapping his spoon against the plate, which was almost empty now.

“Possibly,” Chris said, smiling slyly. “But I’m not going to tell you what I have in mind. You’re just going to have to wait and see.”

Ari rolled his eyes. He was eyeing the rest of the cake, so Chris smiled and scooped the last of it up, holding it out to Ari’s lips. Ari beamed and let Chris slip the spoon into his mouth, licking chocolate off his lower lip afterwards.

Chris drove them home afterwards, Ari’s fingers tangled with his own, his thumb rubbing back and forth against Ari’s knuckles. Ari played with the radio, making a face with every other station.

Chris wondered, as he shrugged out of his jacket back home, whether he should he should try and reach out to Nadine, or try and facilitate conversation between her and Ari. He didn’t want to worry Ari about all of this right before Ari was about to graduate, but he couldn’t keep it a secret forever. He couldn’t decide which would be worse, keeping Ari from the truth or throwing him into a problem that was ultimately Chris’s.

Chris turned to look in Ari’s direction. Ari was hesitating at the edge of the entrance hall, shifting his weight from foot to foot. His gaze was concerned again, and Chris’s chest squeezed harshly.

Chris sighed softly. He stepped up closer, reaching for Ari’s face with both hands, and bent down to kiss him.

Ari sighed happily. His arms snaked around Chris’s waist, clinging to him, and he shivered when Chris pressed him back against the wall of the hallway. He tasted like chocolate and his body was warm, and Chris’s chest squeezed again, sharply. He wondered if he’d be able to walk away from this again. He wondered if he could stand hurting Ari like that again. The thought of giving this up was too painful to even consider.

“Chris?” Ari’s voice was breathless. Chris realized he’d paused, his lips against Ari’s throat.

Chris sighed. He closed his eyes briefly. Tonight was about Ari, and Chris wouldn’t burden him with everything that was going on inside Chris’s head. If this was one of the last times Chris would have this, then he would make the most of it. “You’ve been so focused the past few weeks, darling,” he murmured against Ari’s skin. He slipped his hands beneath Ari’s shirt. “I think you deserve a reward.”

Ari shuddered. He arched beneath Chris’s touch and pressed more tightly against him.

* * *

“Ari,” a voice said, “do you have a moment to chat?”

Ari glanced over his shoulder and down the hall. Professor Amez was approaching him down the hall, her arms folded. Her expression was serious, but she always looked sort of like that. “Sure,” Ari said. He glanced back at Landon. “I’ll meet you in a bit?”

Landon nodded. “See you, dude,” he said, patting Ari on the shoulder and then heading out of the building. Ari stepped over to meet Professor Amez, and she led him over to her office.

They sat down, Professor Amez behind her desk and Ari on the other side. Ari waited for Professor Amez to speak but she seemed to be thinking hard about what she wanted to say; she tapped her fingernails against her desk and stayed silent for a good minute. Ari shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. “Um,” he said finally, when he couldn’t wait anymore, “Professor Amez, did I do something wrong?”

“Not exactly,” Professor Amez said. She leaned forward, then, her gaze still fixed intensely on Ari’s face. “But if you don’t mind, I would like to know how long you and Professor Hadley have been seeing one another.”

Ari’s mouth dropped open and he stared stupidly for several long moments. A thousand thoughts rifled through his head—his instinct was to deny and lie his ass off, but then he wondered if Chris had already told her the truth. Then he wondered why, _why_ Chris had told someone about them, and there was a wave of anger through his gut, surprising him. Chasing it quickly was terror, that if he didn’t say the right thing Chris would lose his job or Ari would lose his diploma. Finally, he wondered if Professor Amez didn’t care at all and was just curious, but the look on her face was too intense for this to stem from casual interest.

Professor Amez raised her eyebrows, and Ari realized he still hadn’t said anything. He closed his mouth, swallowed. “Um,” he croaked. “What?”

It was pretty pathetic, but it was the only thing he could manage. Professor Amez sighed, and her expression softened a little. “I spoke to Professor Hadley already,” she said. “He explained the situation to me. I just wanted to hear the story from you before I decide what to do with the information.”

Ari’s throat was dry. He swallowed a few more times, but his voice still wouldn’t work properly. “What do you mean?” he said hoarsely. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m not sure yet, Ari,” Professor Amez said. “I’d like to know a little more, first.” She tilted her head. “When did this start between the two of you?”

Ari twisted his fingers together in his lap, gripping tightly. He hesitated and considered stretching the truth a little, but he worried that Chris had already told Professor Amez too much detail. Ari was frustrated, all of a sudden, that neither she nor Chris had warned him about this, and instead he was being ambushed like this.

“We started seeing each other my sophomore year,” Ari said finally. “It’s been on and off since then.”

Professor Amez nodded. “But you’re together now?” she said.

Ari nodded. “It’s not just…something casual,” he said. “It’s—I mean—we have actual feelings for each other.” His throat was tight and he swallowed hard, forcing the emotions down so his voice wouldn’t sound choked. “Professor Amez, please, just—I can’t watch him lose his job and know it’s my fault. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I know you think that’s true,” Professor Amez said, “but, Ari—”

“You think he was preying on me, right?” Ari said. “Like he used the class I was in to get close to me, and then manipulated me somehow? Because it wasn’t like that at all. I made my own choice, and I decided I wanted to be with him.”

“Ari.” Professor Amez leaned towards him. “He shouldn’t have pursued you to begin with.”

“I’m the one who made the first move.” Ari wondered if maybe he should shut up, if too many details would be detrimental, but he couldn’t just sit here and watch Chris’s career go down the drain. “He wouldn’t have done anything at all if I hadn’t.”

Professor Amez sighed. “He still shouldn’t have,” she said. She leaned back in her seat. “I’m sorry to upset you, Ari. I just wanted to hear your side of things.”

Ari gulped. “So,” he said, “when are you going to decide what to do?”

“I’m not sure,” Professor Amez said. “I’m a mandatory reporter, and I’m obligated to report these kinds of things to protect students from facing abuse. But I know this situation is unusual, so I’ll take a few days to think about it.” She reached for her computer, opening it. “That’s all. Have a nice evening, Ari.”

* * *

“Ari, darling?” a voice said from the kitchen. “Is that you?”

Ari paused in the hallway to toe off his shoes. His heart was thundering in his chest and he wasn’t sure what he was going to say when he saw Chris—he’d never really been angry with Chris before, not even when they’d broken up. It was a feeling Ari really didn’t like. He didn’t appreciate confrontation, but he couldn’t just ignore this. It was too big of a problem.

Chris was at the stove when Ari arrived in the kitchen. He was cooking something that smelled delicious, and he smiled at Ari when he approached. “I thought I’d make some tacos for dinner,” Chris said. “It’ll be a little spicy. I hope you can stand a bit of a burn.”

Ari set down his backpack on the floor with a heavy thump. Chris glanced over at the sound and raised his eyebrows, and Ari curled his hands into fists, swallowing several times and hoping that his voice would stay steady. “Chris,” Ari said, “why didn’t you tell me?”

Chris blinked. “Tell you what?” he said.

“About Professor Amez,” Ari said. “She just fucking _ambushed_ me about our relationship. Apparently you already told her everything, and now she’s considering whether to bring the information to the administration.” Ari tightened his fists, tears budding in his eyes even as he struggled to hold them back. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I _hope_ she was telling the truth, and you already explained everything to her. Because if she didn’t already know the truth, she sure does now.”

Chris sighed. He turned off the stove and moved to face Ari directly. “I’m sorry, Ari,” he said. “I know I should have told you. Professor Amez saw us kissing the day of your thesis presentation, and she confronted me then.”

“That was a _week_ ago!” Ari said. “You kept it from me for _that long_?” He rubbed his hands over his face. “Chris, I had no idea what to say when she confronted me. I didn’t know whether to tell her the truth or to lie my ass off. You couldn’t have at least warned me?”

“Ari, the day Professor Amez approached me, you’d just finished your thesis presentation, and I couldn’t bring myself to ruin the day for you,” Chris said, coming a little closer. “Everything was about to get so complicated, and I just—I wanted to keep you from all of that for a little longer. I thought perhaps I could handle the situation and you wouldn’t have to be involved at all. I suppose that was a naïve hope.”

“Why?” Ari snapped. “Why did you feel like you needed to keep me out of everything?”

“Because it’s my fault, darling,” Chris said. “I’m the one who is in the wrong here, and I’m the one who’s going to be under fire. I wanted to keep all of that away from you if possible, since you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Neither did you!” Ari said, throwing up his hands in exasperation. “Chris, we’re in this together now, that’s how a relationship works. If you’re going to be dealing with this, so am I. Whatever affects one of us affects us both.”

His voice cracked embarrassingly. Chris’s brow furrowed. “Oh,” he said softly, stepping closer again. “Ari—”

Ari stepped past him, sitting heavily on one of the chairs at the dining room table. He leaned his elbows against his knees and pressed his hands over his eyes, rubbing. Chris sighed quietly and settled in front of him in another chair; he reached out and his hand rested on Ari’s thigh, thumb rubbing back and forth. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry I tried to shut you out,” Chris murmured. “But we’re going to get through this, I promise.”

Ari raised his head. His pride swelled briefly and part of him wanted to keep yelling, just because he was so upset at this whole situation—but he wasn’t angry with Chris, really. So instead he relented, pushing off his seat and instead sitting across Chris’s lap. Chris slipped his arms around Ari’s waist, rubbing his back soothingly, and Ari buried his face in Chris’s neck.

“I kept saying you were going to lose your job,” Ari mumbled. “I told you so.”

Chris chuckled. “I haven’t lost my job just yet,” he said. “I have a lot of respect for Professor Amez. I think she’ll do the right thing, ultimately.”

Ari drew back. He glared. “Why do I get the feeling _the right thing_ means losing your job in your mind?”

“Well…” Chris hesitated. “Perhaps I need to face the consequences of my choices, darling.” He squeezed Ari around the waist. “I love you, and I want to keep you—but maybe that means I need to face the repercussions of that.”

“Why can’t you have both?” Ari said, growing upset again. “Why can’t you have me, and have your job?”

Chris shrugged. “Things don’t always work out that way,” he said.

Ari glared again. “So you’re just giving up?” he said. “Chris, can’t you try and fight this? Fight for what you want—you fought for me, didn’t you?”

“Hmm…” Chris considered, tracing his fingertips up and down Ari’s back. “I don’t know if I would call it fighting when I spent an entire year struggling to stay away from you and steadfastly ignoring my feelings for you.”

“But you still came after me,” Ari said. “When I was going to go out with Micah. I could have rejected you and said you were too late—I could have shoved you away when you kissed me, but you did it anyway.”

Chris smiled. “Somehow I knew you wouldn’t do that,” he said. “I know you pretty well by now. But I suppose I should have asked before I just kissed you like that.”

Ari shrugged one shoulder. “I didn’t mind,” he said.

Chris’s smile widened and he reached for Ari’s chin, pulling him down. Ari sighed and relented, draping his arms around Chris’s neck and kissing him back. “Chris,” Ari said, drawing back. “What are we going to do? You can’t just…let this happen.”

“I know you’re worried, baby,” Chris said. “But there’s not a whole lot to be done. Professor Amez has spoken to both of us and it’s up to what she decides. Until then…” He smiled. “I’m just going to enjoy having you all to myself again. Nothing else matters quite as much to me right now, as long as you’re happy.”

“That doesn’t seem fair,” Ari said.

“Even if your happiness makes me happy too?”

Ari sighed. He tugged at a loose thread on Chris’s shirt. “If we hadn’t been making out right on campus this never would have happened,” he mumbled. “We got overconfident.”

“Again, my fault. I was the one who kissed you.” Chris shifted a little, and smiled, and it didn’t even seem particularly forced. “Now, let me finish dinner. I bet tacos will make us both feel better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading as always <3 Just a couple chapters left!


	15. Chapter 15

“Do you have to leave right now?” Ari said.

Chris turned back, halfway through buttoning his shirt. He smiled; Ari was on his back on top of Chris’s bedsheets, dressed only in a pair of boxers and a faded t-shirt. His arms were stretched above his head and his back was arching off the mattress, and his hair was still a total mess from sleep. “I have meetings, sweetheart,” Chris said. “I’ll be back this afternoon. I’m sure you’ll be okay until then.”

Ari groaned. He wiggled his toes against the sheets. “It’s so boring here during the day,” he said. “What am I supposed to do until graduation? All I have is work, and I’m barely working 20 hours at this point.” He pursed his lips. “If you stay here, I bet we could find something fun to do together.”

Chris chuckled. He approached the foot of the bed and reached for Ari’s bare legs, trailing his fingertips along his knees and up his thighs. Ari squirmed. “Am I not doing enough to keep you satisfied, darling?” Chris murmured. He tickled Ari’s inner thighs, and Ari whimpered. “Even after everything we did last night, you still want more?” Chris leaned in, slipping both hands beneath Ari’s t-shirt to find warm skin, and bent down until their noses brushed. “You’re so greedy.”

Ari sighed as Chris kissed him. He arched beneath Chris’s hands. “I just miss you when you’re gone,” Ari said, breathless, when Chris drew back. He licked his lips, his eyes soft and glassy. “Can’t you stay just a little longer?”

Chris hummed. He reached up until his hands found Ari’s wrists, pinning them to the mattress. “Are you trying to tempt me, sweetheart?” Chris said. He rubbed Ari’s palms with his thumbs, and Ari squirmed some more beneath him. Chris arched an eyebrow teasingly. “I have more self-control than you. I don’t think it will work.”

Ari pouted. “That’s not fair,” he said, straining against Chris’s hands.

Chris laughed again, bringing his mouth back down to Ari’s. He released Ari’s wrists to bring his hands back to Ari’s waist, smoothing them against sleep-warm skin. “Ari,” Chris said, pulling back, “if you’re bored during the day, why don’t you try and find a new passion, or a new hobby? You might surprise yourself if you find something you like.”

Ari hesitated. He chewed on his lower lip. “Well,” he said. “Actually, I um…I’ve been doing a little bit of that.”

Chris raised his eyebrows curiously. “Oh?” he prompted.

Ari smiled, a little shyly. “I’ve been applying to grad school,” he explained. “Just a few places.”

Chris beamed. “That’s wonderful, Ari,” he said. “Where have you been applying?”

“Schools in the area, mostly,” Ari said. He listed a few. “And, um…I was thinking of applying to a couple places out east, too, but I’m not sure.”

“Not sure?” Chris said. He settled at Ari’s side. “Why not?”

“Well…” Ari sighed. “One of the places I was looking at has the exact program I want, but it’s so far away, Chris. I don’t know if I want to be away from you for that long.”

“It wouldn’t be that long, sweetheart,” Chris said, stroking Ari’s hair. “We’d see each other over breaks, and you would only be in school for a couple of years.” He smiled. “Besides, we’ve been separated before. We’d figure it out.”

Ari buried his face against Chris’s shoulder and groaned. “Things have been so intense recently, though,” he mumbled. “Not just because of the whole thing with Professor Amez—I just, I want to be around you all the time. Being away from you for even a few months feels too hard right now.”

Chris sighed, rubbing his thumb against the back of Ari’s neck. “I know, baby,” he said. He kissed Ari’s hair. “We don’t need to decide anything right away. If you love the program, apply to the school and see if you get accepted. We can decide what to do then.”

Ari nodded. “Okay,” he said.

Chris straightened. “I really need to get going now, love,” he said. He stroked his knuckles against Ari’s cheek. “I’ll see you this afternoon, okay? Just relax until then, enjoy yourself.” He paused, arching an eyebrow. “But not too much.”

Ari smiled. He sighed when Chris drew his hands away.

It was a little tense, being on campus now. Everything with Professor Amez seemed to hang over Chris’s head, and he spent a lot of time trying to avoid her just so there wouldn’t be another confrontation. He’d judged himself plenty for his relationship with Ari, and he didn’t really need someone else judging him every time they looked at him.

As much as Chris tried to avoid her, Professor Amez still tracked him down in his room late in the afternoon. “Have a minute, Professor Hadley?” she asked.

Chris tapped the end of his pen against his desk. He considered making an excuse and telling her he was busy, but in truth he’d been ready to leave campus and head home. “All right,” Chris said. He gestured to his chair. “Sit down.”

Nadine took a seat. “How has your week been?” she asked.

“Tense,” Chris said honestly. He arched an eyebrow. “What do you say we skip the small talk, given everything else, hm? What do you need, Nadine?”

Nadine sighed. “Fine,” she said. “I was just trying to be polite.” She folded her arms, leaning back in her seat. “Graduation is in a few days. Is Ari ready to get his diploma?”

“Yes,” Chris said. “He’s looking forward to it.” He frowned. “Have you made up your mind to tell the administration about the two of us?”

“Sort of,” Nadine said. “I’ve decided not to say anything right away. Ari worked hard, and he deserves his diploma—I don’t feel right, putting that in jeopardy. I know you and your work, so I don’t think you gave him special treatment with his thesis.”

“I didn’t,” Chris said. “You’re right.”

“In any case, I’m going to be very busy this summer,” Nadine said. “So, we’ll talk again in the fall, I suppose.”

“I see,” Chris said. “So, you’re just going to let this whole thing fester for three months?”

“Well, would you rather I bring the information to the dean right now?” Nadine said, arching an eyebrow. “Because I certainly can, if you’d prefer that.”

Chris sighed. It wasn’t a great situation either way, but the thought of being able to spend the summer with Ari and not worry about Ari not graduating was appealing. “All right,” Chris said. “I suppose I’m not in a position to make demands.”

“No, you’re certainly not,” Nadine said, but she smirked a little, and Chris relaxed at the expression. “You know, as gross as it is, thinking of you dating a 19-year-old, I suppose I get it. Ari is a sweetheart.” She rolled her eyes. “I mean, I still have self-control, like a proper adult, so I would have been able to resist, but in any case I get it.”

Chris frowned at her, considering for a few long moments. “I’ll take that, I guess,” he said. “It’s better than you blatantly despising me, in any case.”

“Oh, Chris, get over yourself,” Nadine said. “I never despised you. I respect you for your work and you’re very good at your job. I just think you shouldn’t sleep with your students, maybe.” She narrowed her eyes and then added, grudgingly, “But I did speak with Ari, and it sounds like the situation was mutual, at the very least.”

“It was,” Chris said. “At least, I sure hope it was.”

Nadine continued to scrutinize him. “Has it ever happened before?” she said. “You’ve never been…interested in someone in one of your classes?”

“No,” Chris said. “Or, well…never like Ari, anyway. I suppose there have been one or two times where I’ve been attracted to someone in one of my classes, but I’ve never had the urge to do anything about it.”

“Ari must be pretty special, then.” Nadine stood. “I’ll leave you to it. Have a nice afternoon, Chris.”

Chris felt like a weight had been lifted off him as he headed home. He found Ari in the living room of his house; Ari was sitting on the couch with his laptop balanced in his lap, a word document open on his screen. He jumped a little in surprise at the feeling of Chris’s hands gripping his shoulders, and Chris smiled.

“Are you working on your grad school apps, darling?” Chris said, pressing his lips into Ari’s hair.

“Yeah,” Ari said, leaning back into Chris’s touch. “It’s not going very well.”

“Hmm.” Chris stepped around to the other side of the chair. He lifted Ari’s legs, settling on the couch and resting them across his lap. “Tell me what you have so far,” Chris said, rubbing Ari’s ankle.

“Sure.” Ari glanced at his screen and then back up at Chris, his gaze curious. “Did something happen? You seem…different.”

Chris smiled. He stroked his hand up and down Ari’s leg. “It was a productive day, that’s all,” he said. “Am I not allowed to be happy to see you?”

Ari smiled back. He wiggled his toes in Chris’s lap and lowered his gaze back to his computer screen.

* * *

Chris focused on spending as much time as possible with Ari that summer.

With a weight lifted off his shoulders from his conversation with Nadine, Chris worried less about what the future held. He could deal with things changing in the fall—if he lost his job, it wasn’t the end of the world. He didn’t mind a bit of change anyway. Change might be overdue, considering how tumultuous his life had been these past few years.

Ari graduated and got his diploma, and worked part-time. Once his lease was up on his apartment, Chris offered to have Ari move back in with him. “Are you sure?” Ari said, when Chris asked over dinner. “I can’t afford to—”

“Ari,” Chris said, cutting him off. “You don’t owe me anything. I just want to live with you again. I’m not expecting you to pay rent or something, if that’s what you were going to say.” When Ari continued to hesitate, Chris smiled and leaned forward. “Didn’t we have this exact same conversation the first time you moved in?”

“Yeah, well, things are different now,” Ari said. “I mean, we’re, like—in a relationship, aren’t we? Doesn’t that change things? We’re supposed to be equal partners and stuff.”

“True,” Chris said. “And we are equal partners, Ari—of course we are. But it’s worth acknowledging that I’m fifteen years ahead of you financially. I’m more than happy to support you while you work on your career and your education.”

“Really?” Ari said. “Are you sure? Because I don’t want to feel like I’m freeloading.”

“Baby, you’re not freeloading,” Chris said. “I want you to live with me, so I can spend as much time with you as possible. This benefits me as much as it benefits you. However…” He arched his eyebrow. “If you want to pay me back somehow, I can think of a few things that worked out pretty well last time.”

Ari’s face turned pink. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll start packing up my stuff tomorrow, then.”

“Good.” Chris sat back and reached for his glass of wine. “Glad that’s settled.”

Ari moved back in at the end of May and they spent June enjoying the warm weather, sprawled in Chris’s backyard with some good books, sipping wine on the patios of outdoor restaurants, feeding each other ice cream like they were in a cheesy romantic comedy. It felt like they were in some lovely, warm bubble, and Chris never wanted to escape it.

Chris even gave into Micah’s unending, insistent reminders of the upcoming yearly college reunion, and agreed to head to California for a week to join.

“You don’t have to come with if you don’t want to,” Chris assured Ari as the two of them packed. “I won’t be upset at all if you decided you’d rather stay behind.”

“Are you crazy?” Ari said. “You think I’d give up an entire week at a free beach house just because your friends are a little crazy? No way. I’m coming with.” He paused, and sat at the edge of the bed, frowning. “You do want me to come, right? This isn’t some ploy to get me to stay behind?”

Chris chuckled. “You caught me,” he said. He knelt on the ground between Ari’s knees and trailed his fingers along Ari’s thighs, slipping the fabric of his shorts out the way to kiss bare skin. “I’d much rather you stay here. The idea of spending a week with you on the beach, with a little wine and a big canopy bed—not _remotely_ appealing.”

Ari squirmed. He clenched his hands against the edge of the mattress, curling his fingers into the sheets. “You think now that we’re actually together, Micah will stop joking about trying to get into my pants?” he said, his voice breathy. “Because I was just thinking of taking him up on it.”

“Don’t even joke about that.” Chris straightened, dipping his hands underneath Ari’s shirt, kissing him. He pinned Ari down against the mattress and dug his fingers into Ari’s ribs, tickling him; Ari yelped in protest, trying fruitlessly to shove Chris off him.

The last time the two of them had gone on this particular sort of vacation, things had ended very poorly. Chris worried briefly that this trip would bring back bad memories as a result, but his fears were unfounded. Ari’s stresses seemed to unravel while they were at the beach house; he drank wine with the others and cooked dinner with Issac and always seemed to want to be near Chris, curling against his chest or reaching for his hand or draping across his lap on the couch. He seemed to be determined to learn Micah’s “improved” version of poker, and insisted that Chris teach him until he’d be able to win a game.

The others still scrutinized him and Chris, of course, but Ari didn’t seem bothered by it anymore. “I’d barely started to acknowledge how I felt about you, last time we were here,” Ari explained one night, a few days into their vacation. He was sitting on the bed in his sleep clothes, his kindle resting on the mattress by his knee. “I was scared of saying or doing the wrong thing and ruining everything.” He shrugged. “I’m not worried about that anymore, I guess.”

Chris smiled at him and tugged a shirt on over his head. He came over to the bed, settling on the mattress in front of Ari so they were facing each other. “I remember,” he said. He reached for Ari’s jaw and stroked his thumb back and forth against Ari’s skin. “It must have been heavy, feeling all of that and then staying silent.”

Ari shrugged and smiled wryly. “I guess,” he said. “But it must have felt kind of like that for you, too.” He paused, and his brow furrowed. “I mean…right?”

Chris nodded. He lowered his hand, resting it instead against Ari’s leg. “Ari, my feelings for you were getting out of hand even before that,” he said. “I don’t think I’d be able to pinpoint when, exactly. But I promise, you weren’t alone. Not by a longshot.”

Ari’s expression softened a little. He scooted closer until he could lean into Chris’s side, and sighed against Chris’s neck. Chris smiled and held him there, stroking his hair and running his fingertips up and down the warm skin of Ari’s thighs.

“Were you…telling the truth?” Ari asked after a moment. “When I asked if you’d seen anyone else this year?”

“Oh,” Chris said, “whether I’d slept with anyone else, you mean?”

Ari nodded jerkily. “I wouldn’t blame you or anything,” he said, but he kept his face hidden, speaking the words against Chris’s neck. “It wouldn’t bother me. We were separated for a whole, year, after all. I’m just…wondering.”

“Hmm,” Chris said thoughtfully. He rubbed circles at the back of Ari’s neck with his fingertips. “Are you sure you want to know the truth?”

Ari raised his head sharply, blinking. “What?” he said, his voice high-pitched. “Really? Who?”

Chris smiled at him, amused. “I thought you said it wouldn’t bother you?”

“Yeah,” Ari stammered. “But—”

Chris chuckled. “I’m just kidding, sweetheart,” he said. “I went on a few dates while we were separated, but that’s all. It was a very frustrating year.” He leaned in and brushed his mouth against Ari’s jaw. “But you are very cute when you’re jealous.”

Ari huffed, but his body relaxed, as though in relief. “You’re so annoying,” he said.

“Mmm.” Chris lifted his head and kissed Ari on the mouth, holding his chin steady. Ari relented, kissing him back. His mouth tasted like mint and chamomile tea, and he sighed with pleasure when Chris’s hands slipped beneath his shirt to find skin.

* * *

“So, any word on the grad school applications yet?” Landon asked.

He and Ari were grabbing drinks on a Saturday night in late July. They were sort of celebrating—Landon had just accepted a job at a small local startup—but it was just the two of them, since Ari had missed the real celebration a week ago.

“Not yet,” Ari said. “I probably won’t hear until August. I’m just trying not to think about it.”

Landon grinned. “Sorry. I know, we’re supposed to be chilling.” He drained his drink and gestured towards the bartender for the bill. “What program did you apply to?”

“Comparative Literature,” Ari said. He tapped his nails against the surface of the bar, gazing at the surface of his drink. It was still half-full, but he didn’t really feel like finishing it—Landon had ordered him a whiskey sour, and it wasn’t nearly sweet enough for Ari’s usual tastes. “I don’t know. Even if I get in…maybe I won’t accept it. I’m not sure yet.”

Landon frowned at him. “What are you talking about?” he said. “Why would you turn it down?”

Ari shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe I’m just doing grad school to put off choosing a career,” he said. “I don’t know. It’s possible, right?”

“So?” Landon said. “What’s wrong with that?” He took their bill and nodded his thanks at the bartender. “Nobody knows what they want to do, man. I only took this job at _Redware_ because they offered me a full benefits package, it’s not exactly a dream job situation. As long as you’re thinking about what to do, might as well pad your resume and stuff your brain full of knowledge, right?”

“I guess,” Ari said.

He hesitated, and almost told Landon the truth—about the acceptance letter hidden under Ari’s bed, about the real reason he was hesitating. The school that had offered him a space was so far away, all the way on the other side of the country, and Ari couldn’t stand the idea of separating from Chris for so long. Even more secretly, Ari worried that if they were apart that long, Chris would change his mind about their relationship and Ari would be right back to where he was a few months ago, dating every grad student in sight while the memory of Chris haunted him at the back of his mind.

Landon slipped his wallet into his pocket. “Hey, can we hang at your place for a while?” he said as they both got up. “Bethany is having some friends over to watch the Bachelor, and I love her but I really can’t stomach that shit.”

“Sure,” Ari said automatically, and then he froze halfway towards the parking lot, his stomach turning over. “Wait—uh. Actually, maybe we can just hang another time? I’m kind of tired.”

It was a garbage lie, and Landon raised his eyebrows skeptically. “Come on, dude, help me out,” Landon said. “Just for an hour. If I have to listen to one more skinny white girl talk about her tragic backstory where her parents got divorced, I’m gonna barf. Besides, I haven’t seen your new place yet.”

Ari’s face felt too warm. He hoped it was too dark for Landon to notice. When he moved out a few months ago, Ari had lied and told Landon he was moving into a tiny apartment downtown. He’d said it was a studio, and that’s why he never had people over—it was too small. “Can’t we just go to your place?” Ari said weakly.

Landon narrowed his eyes. “All right,” he said, “what’s going on with you?”

Ari’s heart raced. He looked around briefly. “Okay,” he said. “Okay, look—we can go to my place. But I need to explain something first, and it’s going to sound absolutely insane. I need you to promise to keep _quiet_ about it, or I’m going to murder you.”

Landon blinked at him. “Dude,” he said. “Are you in the mafia or something?”

“I wish.” Ari gripped Landon’s arm and yanked him towards the parking lot. “Come on. You drive—I’ll navigate.”

They pulled up outside Chris’s house fifteen minutes later, and Landon put the car into park out front. He squinted up at the house, puzzled. “Are you sure this is right?” he said.

“I’m sure,” Ari said.

Landon turned his gaze, skeptical, on Ari’s face. “You live _here?_ ” he said. “Are you a millionaire?”

Ari cleared his throat. His heart was beating very hard. “This isn’t actually my house,” he explained. “It’s Chris Hadley’s.”

Landon stared at him blankly. He blinked once or twice, and then said, “Oh. You mean Professor Hadley, the literature teacher at Greenfield?” He blinked a couple times, and then his eyes blew wide. “Wait a minute. You’re living with _Professor Hadley?_ ”

Ari’s face grew hot. “I’m not just living with him,” he said. “I’m sort of—we’re sort of—”

“No. Stop.” Landon held up his hands. “ _Please_ tell me you’re not sleeping with your _college professor,_ dude.”

Ari smiled wryly. “I warned you it was a little insane.”

Landon stared at him for a long time in silence. His brain seemed to have short-circuited. He blinked several times and then said dully, “You’re sleeping. With your college professor.”

“We’re sort of dating, actually,” Ari said. “You can see why I didn’t say anything, though.”

Landon looked from Ari up towards the house, and then back again a couple of times, like he was trying to force this information to process. “Okay,” he said. “Okay. Uh. Okay. So, how long exactly?”

“Um…” Ari rubbed the back of his neck. This was probably going to be another piece of information that would be hard to digest. “We started seeing each other back in my sophomore year.”

Landon’s eyes went wide again. “ _What?_ ” he said. “You were fucking your literature professor for—and I didn’t even _know?_ How did you manage to keep it a secret that long? We were _living together_ all of junior year!”

“We weren’t sleeping together junior year.”

“Oh, my _god_.” Landon rubbed his hands over his face. “Dude. My brain is melting.”

“Sorry,” Ari said. “You were going to have to find out sooner or later.”

Landon lowered his hands. He exhaled in a slow breath. “All right,” he said, unbuckling his seat belt. “Well, no time like the present.”

“Huh?” Ari said, watching him in confusion. “What are you doing?”

Landon turned back to glare at him, one hand on the handle of the car door. “I don’t believe you,” he said. “I need to see proof with my own eyes, so we’re going to go say hey to Professor Hadley.”

Ari swallowed. He pushed open the passenger side door, his heart pounding at the back of his throat.

The house was quiet when Ari stepped inside, but Ari could smell something in the kitchen. “Chris?” he called, kicking off his shoes.

“In the kitchen, darling,” Chris called.

Ari glanced at Landon, who raised his eyebrows and mouthed the word _darling_. Ari’s face went warm. “I brought someone with me,” Ari called, leading Landon to the kitchen.

Chris turned curiously away from the stove as Ari and Landon entered the room. He smiled in greeting. “You must be Landon,” Chris said. He turned off the stove and reached for a kitchen towel, using it to wipe down his hands. “Ari’s told me a lot about you.”

Landon just stared at Chris in disbelief for a few moments, silent. He turned slowly towards Ari, his eyes wide. “I thought you were joking,” he said.

Chris chuckled. Ari’s face burned. “Well, I wasn’t,” Ari said.

Landon narrowed his eyes at Chris. “I don’t even know what to do in this situation,” he said. “I mean, do you make a habit of sleeping with your students, Professor Hadley? Like, should I be trying to punch you in the face right now?”

“ _Landon,_ ” Ari hissed, glaring at him.

Chris just smiled. “Call me Chris,” he said. He nodded towards the dining room. “And you’re welcome to punch me if you want, but how about you join Ari and I for dinner first?”

Chris had made one of Ari’s favorites, pan-fried chicken with mushroom sauce and green beans. Landon seemed to relax as they ate and he groaned appreciatively at Chris’s cooking. “Dude,” Landon said, leaning back in his seat and looking over at Ari. “I totally get it now. Is this why you were suddenly competent at cooking?”

“I was decent at cooking before I met Chris,” Ari said defensively, and Chris laughed lightly.

“You could cook eggs,” Landon corrected him. “And they were usually dry and rubbery. The only reason you stayed alive freshman year was because of our dorm’s microwave.”

Landon stayed until it was getting late, but he and Bethany were planning a beach day in the morning and he couldn’t stay very long. “Hopefully the Bachelor will be over by now,” Landon said as Ari saw him off at the door. “I don’t know how long it’s supposed to go for. Sometimes it lasts three hours—how can anyone sit through that much girl drama?”

Ari smiled. He leaned back against the wall across from the front door. “Tell Bethany I said hi,” he said. He hesitated. “Are you going to tell her about…well…”

Landon pursed his lips, thoughtful. “We sort of tell each other everything,” he said. “So, probably.” He raised an eyebrow. “I won’t tell anyone else, though, if you’re worried about that.”

Ari supposed it didn’t matter much anymore, now that Professor Amez already knew about them. Besides, now that Ari had graduated, there wasn’t anything the administration could really get upset about. “It’s cool,” Ari said. “I guess I don’t really care anymore.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry I sprung this on you. I know it’s…weird.”

Landon shrugged. “I guess I wish you’d told me sooner, but it’s not as weird as I thought it would be. Like, now that I see you two together—I get it. I don’t know if I love it, but I get it.” He narrowed his eyes. “But if Hadley ever tries anything—”

Ari laughed. Landon had three younger siblings, and he often slipped into Protective Older Brother mode without realizing it. It was endearing. “I wouldn’t worry about that,” Ari said. “But thanks.”

Landon shook his head. “You know, the more I think about it—you banged your professor, dude. Do you have any idea how many people have tried to do something like that? If people found out about this, you would be a Greenfield legend.”

“I think I’m good,” Ari said, making a face. “I don’t need everyone talking about me.”

Once Landon had driven off, Ari went searching for Chris and found him at the sink, cleaning the dishes from dinner. “Chris,” Ari said, “let me do that. You made dinner.”

“I don’t mind. I’m almost finished anyway.” Chris turned off the tap and turned to look at Ari, smiling. “I was surprised to see Landon here. I thought you were pretty set on not telling him about us.”

“I know,” Ari said. “I’m sorry, I know I kind of sprung it on you. It sort of just…happened that way.”

Chris shook his head. “No, don’t worry,” he said. “I’m happy you felt comfortable enough to bring him over. I imagine it’s a bit of a relief.”

“A little,” Ari said. He shuffled his feet, staring at the ground. He felt like he was letting a lot of secrets out tonight, but he hoped this one would give him a little relief, too. “I don’t mean to pile on the surprises, but I um…I have something else to tell you, actually.”

“Oh?” Chris raised his eyebrows. “Is everything all right?”

Ari nodded. “Hold on,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

He retrieved his acceptance letter from under his bed and brought it downstairs, where Chris had taken a seat in the dining room with a book and a glass of wine. He raised his eyebrows when Ari handed him the envelope, but closed his book and took the package, lifting the flap.

He withdrew the materials inside and frowned at the piece of paper on top of the stack. He read for a few seconds, and then his face lit up in a smile. “ _Ari_ ,” he said. He set down the stack of papers and rose, taking Ari’s face between his hands, kissing him. “Sweetheart, I’m so proud of you.”

Ari tried to smile back, but it faded quickly. “I’m going to turn it down, Chris.”

Chris frowned. “Darling, I thought this was your top choice school.”

Ari opened his mouth, closed it again. He didn’t know how to explain this without sounding pathetic and clingy. “Chris, I…I don’t want to be separated from you for three years.”

Chris’s thumbs stroked Ari’s jaw. “Darling…”

“I know it’s stupid,” Ari continued. His vision blurred a little, and he blinked a few times to clear it. His throat felt tight. “But anything could happen during all that time, Chris. We could grow apart, or you could find someone else, or—” He broke off, shook his head. “It hurts too much to think about that. It’s not worth it to me.”

Chris gazed at him thoughtfully. He dropped his hands. “Let me show you something,” he said. “Sit down, sweetheart.”

Ari sat at the table, watching as Chris vanished into the living room. He returned with his laptop tucked under one arm, and sat at the table with it open in front of him. He tapped on a few things, and then turned the computer so the screen was facing Ari. It was open on an email. Ari frowned at Chris over the top of the computer. “Chris?”

“Just read, darling.”

Ari sighed. He skimmed the email—it was from a Dean at a university out east, responding to Chris’s query about an open position. The Dean said she’d reviewed Chris’s email, and wanted to offer him the position of Program Director if he was interested. Ari’s eyes went wide as he read and he lifted his gaze again, mouth gaping.

Chris smiled at him. “The position pays better than Greenfield,” he said. “I’ll be teaching fewer classes, working more flexible hours. And more importantly, I’ll be twenty minutes from you if you decide to go to school there.” Chis reached out, and his fingers rubbed back and forth on Ari’s arm. “If that’s what you want, darling, then I’ll come with you.”

Ari’s heart leapt, his stomach swooping inside him, but he shook his head instinctively. “Chris,” he said tightly, “I can’t let you upend your life for me. I can’t make you do that.”

“You’re not making me do anything,” Chris said. “I could use a fresh start, especially after everything that’s happened at Greenfield.” He smiled wanly. “You’re not the only one with worries, sweetheart. The idea of you going off to school on the other side of the country without me—it’s unbearable.”

Ari swallowed. His throat was tight again. “Really?” he said.

Chris nodded. He shifted to move closer around the corner of the table, and he reached for Ari’s face, thumb stroking his cheekbone. “I haven’t given the Dean an answer either way yet,” he said. “I’ll wait until you make your decision.”

Ari chewed on his lower lip. His chest felt tight but it was a good feeling, like something was pressing against the edges of his ribcage, filling him until he could hardly breathe with it. He had no idea what he’d done to deserve this, any of it. Chris was offering him an entire future, and Ari wanted so, so badly to take it.

“I love you,” Ari whispered, his voice tight and choked.

Chris smiled. He tugged gently, pulling Ari into a kiss, letting Ari settle in his lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one chapter left :)  
> Thanks everyone who's stuck with this story!


	16. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise Christmas present! Here's a brief final chapter for ya.  
> Hope everyone is staying warm and safe <3 and if you don't celebrate Christmas, happy almost-end-of-2020! See you in hell, you garbage fire of a year.

“Chris,” Ari said, “have you seen my good backpack?”

Chris straightened, brushing off his clothes. He approached Ari across the living room floor, stepping over several half-filled boxes. The entire house was impossible to navigate now that they were so deep into the moving process—nearly all of Chris’s belongings were packed up and there was very little organization to their approach, so things were scattered all over the place.

“I think it got packed into one of the boxes, darling,” Chris said. “Do you need it?”

Ari groaned. “I was going to use it to pack my computer and stuff,” he said. “But it’s fine. I’ll just leave my computer here, it’s not like I’ll need it in grad school or anything. I’m going to show up on my first day of class without anything I need, because it’s all going to be buried in boxes. It’s fine.”

Chris smiled. He reached for Ari’s shoulders, smoothing his hands along Ari’s arms, squeezing. “Breathe, darling,” he said. “We’ll be in Vermont in just a couple of days, and you’ll have plenty of time to unpack before your classes start.”

Ari exhaled, closing his eyes for a brief moment. He relaxed a little beneath Chris’s hands.

It was late August, and they’d been preparing for this move for the past month and a half. The entire process had been exhausting and overwhelming with such a quick turnaround—with a little luck and a lot of hard work, Chris had just managed to snatch up a gorgeous modern single-story home fifteen minutes away from his new job and twenty minutes from Ari’s campus.

“I’m sorry,” Ari said. “You’ve been working so hard on this, and I’ve just been stressed out of my mind.”

“You have every right to be stressed, sweetheart. It’s a big change to handle.” Chris reached up and rubbed his thumb along Ari’s jaw. “I’ve been through this process many times, so I’m at least halfway used to it. We’re going to get through this together.”

Ari sighed and leaned into Chris’s chest, closing his eyes. Chris’s fingertips pulled softly through his hair. “I think it’ll actually be a relief,” Ari mumbled. “Once we leave, I mean. I think it’ll be good to get away from here.”

“Mm,” Chris agreed. His lips pressed into Ari’s hair. “I think so too.” He rubbed his hand over Ari’s back. “I need to head to campus to grab a few more things. Would you like to come with me?”

It was very strange being back on campus now that Ari had officially graduated. Even after a few months, the whole place felt foreign to him. It was as though the memories were there—of sitting on the quad and reading a novel, working late nights in the library, stumbling back to his dorm drunk on a Friday night—but none of them belonged to him anymore. He was a stranger here, and a stranger in his own memories.

Chris glanced down at him as they walked, side-by-side, to his office. “Are you all right, darling?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” Ari said. “It’s just strange.” Chris nodded, like he understood.

It didn’t bother Ari very much anymore, being seen with Chris on campus like this. Rumors flew, of course, at the sight of them together, but they weren’t overtly touchy-feely, so nobody actually knew the truth. Fortunately, Landon had also kept his word, and was keeping the information under wraps. Save for Bethany, of course, who had called Archer up seconds after finding out demanding details.

“I imagine you’re going to miss him,” Chris said as he packed up the last of his things. “Landon, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Ari said. He hopped up on top of Chris’s desk—or, Chris’s old desk, technically—and watched Chris pack. “He said he’ll come visit when he can. Or maybe I’ll come visit here. I don’t know.”

Chris straightened. He set his box of things on the desk beside Ari’s hip. “You’ll meet dozens of wonderful people in grad school, I’m sure of it,” he said. “The first few months will be hard, but I’ll be right there with you.”

Ari sighed. He reached out, pulling Chris closer to him. “Are you sure about this?” he asked. “I mean, really, really sure?”

He’d asked that same question many times over the past few weeks. Chris never got annoyed with it, just smiled and stroked his thumb against Ari’s jaw and nodded. “I’m sure,” he said. “In fact, I don’t know if I’ve been quite as sure of anything else in a long time.”

He bent his face to Ari’s, kissed him. Ari hummed and arched his back to press closer, curling his arms around Chris’s neck. Chris’s hands drifted along Ari’s thighs, up his hips, resting at his waist. His mouth tasted like coffee.

“Darling,” Chris chuckled, pulling away, “let’s not get carried away in here.”

“Why not?” Ari said. “What are they gonna do, fire you?”

Chris laughed. “I more meant that we have more preparations to finish before the move,” he said. He pressed his lips to Ari’s cheek, to the skin beneath his ear. “Don’t worry. When we get to our new home, we’ll have plenty of time. We’ll have to break in the new bedroom, after all.”

Ari sighed and closed his eyes, goosebumps pebbling along his neck. “I’ll hold you to that,” he said, and Chris chuckled again.

They loaded the boxes into the car, but Chris reached for Ari’s hand afterwards and stopped him from climbing into the passenger seat. “We still have one more thing to do while we’re here,” he said, when Ari frowned in confusion. “Come on. It won’t take long.”

Ari’s frown deepened but he followed Chris back through campus. They stepped into the library and upstairs to the second floor, where Chris led the way into a small conference room. Ari started when they stepped inside, eyes widening at the number of people that were crowded throughout the room. There were a half dozen pizza boxes and a delicate sheet cake sitting on a small table, and a row of drinks laid out on another.

Most of the people were Greenfield faculty, professors and adjuncts that Ari remembered seeing once or twice in passing. There were also a few students and former students, including Landon and Bethany. Ari stared, overwhelmed, wondering if he should turn and run out of the room.

“Professor Hadley, there you are!” Professor James, one of the instructors from the English department, was the first to notice the two of them. “There you are, we’ve been waiting around for you forever. Did you forget about your own goodbye party?”

“My apologies,” Chris said. He guided Ari inside gently, one hand resting at the small of his back, and the door swung closed behind them. “There’s been quite a bit of packing to do.”

“Doesn’t matter,” another Professor said, one that Ari didn’t recognize. “Come in and have fun. Let’s cut into the cake.”

The thought of being with Chris in front of a bunch of faculty like this would have terrified Ari several months ago—and, in truth, it still scared him a little even now. He and Chris would be far away from here within mere hours, though, and the thought of that relaxed him a little. Ari already felt like he’d left this behind, like he was separate from it.

That didn’t mean he wanted to engage in PDA with Chris in front of all of these people, but he wasn’t afraid of putting Chris’s career at risk with the wrong brush of fingers or the wrong look. Just having that gone was a weight off Ari’s shoulders.

“Don’t tell my mom, because she’s a professional baker,” Landon said, a plate with an enormous slice of cake in hand, “but I love a good Costco sheet cake. It tastes like pure preservatives and I can’t get enough.”

“No, you’re right,” Bethany said. She reached over to steal a bite of his cake and Landon scowled at her, turning away protectively. “Ari, you’re not eating?”

“I’m not really hungry,” Ari said. “I had no idea this party was happening, I had dinner like half an hour ago. It was a bag of chips, but it still counts as dinner.”

“You didn’t know this was happening?” Bethany said. “Professor Hadley didn’t tell you?”

“Nope,” Ari said, rolling his eyes. “I think he wanted it to be a surprise.”

“He thought it would be a good idea to surprise _you_ with a big social event?” Landon said, arching an eyebrow. “Does he even know you?” He leaned in closer, narrowing his eyes. “Are you sure this is the right man for you?”

Ari laughed. “Maybe not,” he said. “But if I could have chosen not to catch feelings for him, don’t you think I would have?”

Bethany reached over to pat Ari on the shoulder. “We’re going to miss you a lot, Ari,” she said, and Landon nodded in agreement. “You’ll visit, right?”

“Of course I will,” Ari said. He smiled. “You could always move to the east coast too. Pretty fall colors and clam chowder. Plus Dunkin Donuts.”

“I’m in a committed relationship with Starbucks,” Bethany said.

“And I’m allergic to shellfish,” Landon said. “But we’ll keep it in mind.”

The party wound down in the late evening. Bethany and Landon gave Ari a hug goodbye and headed home, and Ari spent some time saying hello to his old professors. None of them asked any prying questions about him and Chris, to his relief, focused instead on asking Ari about grad school and the classes he’d selected for the upcoming semester.

“Are you ready to go?” Chris asked finally, approaching Ari at the drinks table. He smiled. “You look like you’re falling asleep on your feet.”

“I’m fine,” Ari said, although he was pretty tired. “I just had some wine, that’s all. We can stay if you want.”

Chris shook his head. “I’ve said goodbye to everyone I needed to,” he said. “Let’s go home.”

Ari dozed as they drove away from campus, gazing out the windows and listening to the classical music coming from the radio. He didn’t realize they were home until Chris reached over to rub his knee, catching his attention. “You feeling all right, sweetheart?” Chris asked.

Ari looked over at him, blinking. “Mm,” he said, nodding. “I’m fine.” He reached up to rake a hand through his hair, attempting to tame it. “How come you didn’t tell me about your retirement party?”

Chris chuckled. “I’m not retiring, Ari,” he said.

“Goodbye party. Whatever.”

“I knew you’d refuse to come with me if I told you about it,” Chris said. He smiled. “I’m sorry for springing it on you. Was it too overwhelming?”

“No.” Ari sighed, smiled back. “It doesn’t bother me so much anymore, being around other people together. I was just surprised.”

Chris leaned over, kissing the top of Ari’s hair. “Let’s go inside,” he said. “You must be tired.”

With nearly all of their stuff packed, Ari finally started to relax a little about the move. He took a long bath that night and nearly drifted off in the hot water; his fingers were wrinkly when he finally emerged. He dressed in sweatpants and warm socks and stepped back into the bedroom, where Chris was sitting in bed and reading a book.

Chris smiled at him, beckoned him over. Ari crawled onto the bed, settled against Chris’s chest. The fingers of Chris’s free hand dragged through his damp hair, easing through the tangles, and Ari closed his eyes in pleasure.

“If we hate in in Vermont,” Ari said, “can we just quit and move to the Bahamas instead? We could live off fresh fish and plants and build a shelter out of leaves.”

“Hmm,” Chris said, his chest rumbling gently against Ari’s ear. “That sounds like a great plan.”

Ari smiled. He buried his face in Chris’s shirt. “I love you,” he mumbled, and Chris’s thumb rubbed at the back of his neck in response.

The moving truck finally arrived the following day, and the house was empty by early afternoon. Ari stood in the middle of the bare living room to just stare, amazed at how big the house felt when there was no furniture in it. He wondered if the new house would feel the same that this one did, the perfect balance of comfort and elegance, eccentric and classic. It felt like this new house would be both of theirs, his and Chris’s, and that thought made his chest swell with an indescribable feeling.

“Ari?” Chris’s voice appeared behind him, and Ari turned around. Chris had stepped inside through the open door, his bag slung over his shoulder. He smiled and arched an eyebrow, tilting his head. “The bags are all in the car. Do you have everything?”

Ari nodded. He took a last look at the living room and then grabbed his backpack off the ground, slipping his arm through the strap.

Chris’s car was crowded with even more boxes and bags. Ari climbed inside and tossed his backpack into the backseat. Chris started the car but didn’t pull away immediately; he looked over at Ari and reached over to rest a hand against his knee, thumb rubbing back and forth. Ari looked over at him, and Chris smiled.

“Are you ready, darling?” he asked.

Ari exhaled. He took hold of Chris’s hand and gripped tightly, squeezing. The contact calmed him, centered him somehow. Ari took a last look at the house and then turned his gaze to Chris, smiled back.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who favorited, commented, and read this story! I had so much fun writing it and getting the chance to share it with all of you, and I appreciate every bit of support :)  
> As a reminder, you can find me on tumblr (crystalflowers.tumblr.com) and chat with me there. Hope to hear from you!


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